


Forsakened

by CrossTheCrossedPerson



Series: Forsakened [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Character Death, Dark, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Death Eaters, F/M, Gellert Grindelwald Being an Asshole, Gen, Hogwarts, Horcruxes, Knights of Walpurgis, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Near Death Experiences, OP Harry Basically, Powerful Harry, Sane Tom Riddle, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Teen Tom Riddle, Time Travel, Young Tom Riddle, okay Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossTheCrossedPerson/pseuds/CrossTheCrossedPerson
Summary: Nothing ever went well in Harry's life, abuse and misfortune always ran circles around him. That was no different after he defeated Voldemort in the final battle and ended up being murdered by a Death Eater right after. Death takes things into his own hands and Harry's in for a ride.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Harry Potter/Tiernan Lestrange
Series: Forsakened [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856131
Comments: 67
Kudos: 366





	1. Misfortune Sings my Song

Harry panted, his breath coming out in heavy breaths as he stood in the middle of the battlefield. Across from him, was a body. A scaly body that belonged to Voldemort. A body that marked the end, finally an end! An end to the war, an end to this hell, and most importantly the beginning to his true life. Harry couldn't help but smile, he turned and rapidly searched for Hermione and Ron, his friends though everything. Harry found them, they ran towards him both with blinding smiles on their faces. Hermione looked absolutely overjoyed, she had one arm linked with Ron and the other held out. Harry ignored the weakness in his limbs as he limped forward, it was time to celebrate the war was over. Voldemort was over, and Harry's life has started.

Abruptly, a look of confusion and mild horror rose to Hermione's face, making Harry pause mid wobble, she opened her mouth to yell something at him, Harry turned to see what she was looking at, hand tightening on his wand as he half expected to see Voldemort back on his feet.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry stared at Lucius Malfoy, his voice and face filled the air, desperate anger. Harry tried to dodge, but his attempt was futile. A dead body of the boy-who-lived-twice plopped to the ground like a puppet with freshly snipped strings.

But that was unfortunately fate, wasn't it? Harry could never get a break, with the spidery footsteps of Death following him. Peril seemed to always be around the corner no matter what happens. Harry had always been destined to die at the chilling magic of a killing curse. The realization hit too late, Harry should have moved as soon as he saw Hermione's face. Instead, he turned just in time to see the killing curse's blinding green light launching towards him at a frighteningly unavoidable pace. Just having a moment of sombering relation and a shot of panic before it hit along with the killing curse.

Harry's soul was pulled harshly out of his now former physical form, and he cried out in mourn as he stared at Lucius with anger and hatred. Lucius, like the coward he was, now looked quiet queasy and sick. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all! Why was nothing ever fair to Harry, he just had his victory, won his rights to a happy ending, yet there it happens again. Voldemort ruined his happy ending, not himself but a follower of his. Harry thought now that Voldemort was dead Harry would have a chance to live, just like the prophecy said but no-no, apparently nothing would allow Harry the chance to be happy and free. All Harry had in his life, was some sad half-life of running and desiring to end a war he shouldn't have ever been forced into. Harry was going to start a real life, a real life with his friends! Why couldn't he ever get what he wanted? Just when he was about to turn the page on this nightmare and start a story he wanted to be remembered for, he was murdered.

Torment spun in his soul as his attention moved over to his own corpse as a series of spells were launched at Lucius, he stared down at himself. Harry met his own dead eyes, and they seemed to stare at him and through him. The wand, one of the three Deathly Hallows, was still held by his lifeless hand, a ring that was formerly a horcrux was positioned snuggly on his former pointer finger. Harry's soul felt cold as a shiver wracked his form, he took in his expression. Terror. Hopeless, devastatingly hopeless terror. Harry's mouth had fallen open when he hit the ground, and it looked like he died screaming. On his forehead, his hair spewed around his scar and show cased it like some twisted art form. Harry noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes, and glanced over to find Ron and Hermione. Hermione clung to Ron, tears in her eyes as she pointed down at Harry's body, she was saying something as Ron shook his head as a few tears started to fall. Harry reached out, he went through them. Harry was left to watch with an ache in his heart as Hermione dropped next to his body, she reached forward and felt his neck.

Already knowing the answer, he wanted to cry himself when he saw her expression as she looked even more helplessly up to Ron who kneeled beside her. Hermione moved his head to her lap as she slouched over him, she started to heavily cry as she seemingly whispered word Harry couldn't hear. Harry could only guess she was praying to any deity who would listen, Ron reached around her and patted her on the back as he used his other arm to hold Harry's deathly hands. Ron shook his arm gently at first, he mouthed a few words as he leaned forward before he shook the arm with both hands and a little more rigor. Another plea for Harry to just wake up, another plea for a small victory, another plea for Harry to stand a chance for once.

Harry shook his soul's equivalent of his head as he looked back over to his murderer. Lucius Malfoy was tied in ropes, he looked so tired and pained, his wand was in Draco Malfoy's hand as he seemingly had a shield charm casted. Narcissa Malfoy was on her knees in front of Lucius, a hopeless expression on her face as she shook her head, tears in her own eyes as she showed the most emotion Harry had even seen. Narcissa reached over and hugged Lucius, he seemed so guilty as he shifted his head over his shoulder, he stared past Draco and to Harry's body. Lucius dug his head in Narcissa's shoulder for a moment, he remained still for a few seconds before he looked up. Lucius's expression was stiff, blank as a board as he opened his mouth and seemingly started speaking to Draco.

Draco looked at him, and shook his head. Lucius seemingly went on unimpressed and Draco's shield dropped. Promptly Narcissia, Draco, and Lucius were all hit with a series of spells. Draco fell to the ground, and Narcissa was frozen hugging her husband. Harry looked away and helplessly back down to Hermione and Ron. Why was it always him? Couldn't he get one happy ending for once in his life? Harry lowered himself hesitantly between Ron and Hermione, sitting between his two friends as they mourned his death. Moving his hands out, he tried to clasp at Ron and Hermione's hands, he went through them like he was nothing. As he wasn't anything anymore. Harry was just an idea, he wasn't a living being anymore, he was dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead just like Sirius, dead just like Mum, dead just like Dumbledore, like Dad, like Snape, and just like Voldemort. Neither of them really won, and why is that? Why is fate so fucking cruel? Why is fate cruel enough to not even allow Harry a proper ghost form. He wasn't even like Nearly Headless Nick, he was nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Life and work thrown down the drain, years of frustration and mourn gone, as Harry didn't ever get time to change. Never got the time to grow, never got the time to live a life.

"Are you done yet?" A quiet voice asked in a tone that was borderline angelic as a hand fell on his shoulder, Harry jumped, and passed through Hermione as he scrambled away. Harry stared wide eyes and on the ground at seemingly another ghost. They were a young anorexic looking man, with snow white skin, dark black eyes, long black hair that floated around the man almost like a halo. Harry was reminded of Snape, just this man lost the hooked nose that was instead small and unremarkable. They seemed to have a similar fashion sense too.

The two stared at each other, the man's hand falling to his side as he rolled his eyes, "Who are you?" Harry sputtered, having a voice and a semi-physical form back as he stumbled back to his feet and backed away from the figure. The man watched Harry, before he sighed. Snapping his fingers, the world's colors turned into a monochrome gray scale as the movement around them fully ceased. The hues of grays seemed stark with the figure's pure black pure blood like robes, and Harry didn't like this one bit. Harry backed up again, inching away as he was watched with an unimpressed expression.

"I would advise you to walk with me," The man drawled, tilting his head as he seemingly looked Harry up and down.

"Who are you?" Harry repeated, standing firmly away from the man. For a few seconds, the man looked annoyed before he sighed again.

"I go by many names," The man finally said, in a demurred tone. Ignoring Harry's discomfort, the man prowled forward in a way Harry found predatory. Harry tried to move, and with a sparkling shot of panic Harry found himself unable to move other than a flinch and a frightful blink. The man stopped in front of him, staring into his eyes unblinkingly as he reached towards Harry and ghosted up Harry's cheek and trailed up to the lightning bolt scar that once held Voldemort's horcrux. Harry fought with his invisible restraints, trying desperately to move as the man tilted his head again with a small frown, "The easiest name to give you would be Death, as that's my name from the story you know me from. Besides, the concept mortals granted that name speaks very aptly to what I am, and more importantly in your mind."

"Why?" Harry managed to say as he managed to speak through whatever binds Death put on him. Was Death going to torture him for enturnity? Was Harry really so universally hated to attracted Death's attention? Death chuckled darkly, the supposed Death drew his hand back, his dark brooding eyes peering maraudingly into his soul.

"That question is highly subjective," Death drawled, taking a generous step back from Harry, "It depends on exactly which why of this horrendous situation I foolishly managed to get intertwined with. You must be wondering, why I even bother talking to you, as per protocol you should be already reaped and to the train? Or why are you here? Why Lucius Malfoy killed you? Why Voldemort causes the war? Why you were placed with the Dursleys'? Why Dumbledore used you..? Simply which why? Or was it vastly different from these presented assortment of whys?" Death rambled his voice growing rapidly more annoyed as he stared down Harry, his expression twisting into a scathing scowl. Harry tried to speak but found himself unable to answer, Death hummed and turned away from him walking towards the frozen scene of Ron and Hermione mourning by his corpse.

"You have no need to speak," Death spoke again, his voice back to being soft, "I can explain all you need to know with a few sentences," Death paused, seemingly staring down at Harry's dead body before he huffed and turned to face Harry. A sharp look bordering on a glare landed on Harry almost instantly, "You know the Tale of the Three Brother's well by now, don't you? How I offered great power to those three mortals, and eventually all of them, even the third in his craft, fell to my pull? Well, you, _Harry Potter_ , got all three of those trinkets of mine. That means you managed to get the title of Master of Death!" Death exclaimed in a tone that was sarcastically sweet, "Congratulations," The silent world exploded with sound, making Harry flinch as Death turned away from Harry again.

A long pause ensued, Harry unable to speak or move to fill the void.

"Only," Death voice was a deathly whisper, as the roaring sounds of clapping feel into a murmur, "Now you, as the assumed title and according to the story, my Master of sorts, I need to clear up some things. Not for you to fret, or misunderstand, you will **never** control me. I am in control!" Death spun on the heels of his feet, his cloak spinning around him in a dramatic way, a very dangerous look on his face as he walked back over to Harry and got uncomfortably close again. With Death's superior height, he loomed over Harry so he leaned down to where they were at eye level, "The relationship I will maintain with you is a partnership of sorts, and as such, I will be giving you your little wish of correcting all the wrongs in your little cursed life."

Death drew way from him again, looking somewhat satisfied as he moved a few firm steps away from Harry again, "For one, you being the child forced to fight Tom Riddle," Death paused before scoffing, "Or his pathetic rename, Voldemort. That was stupid, wrong, and exceedingly ridiculous. You know how many times I was so close to your soul? Just a few millimeters from just taking it? You have no idea how close to me you've been. To get back on point, Dumbledore was never on your side. Surprising right? Dumbledore is on a side of his own, no one was ever able to see the full extent of his plans for the world as he always had a habit of holding his cards to close to his chest with no one ever able to track his paper trail or footsteps. You may see him as o'so honorable and noble, but he was only in it for his moral code. The last dark lord fell to him with mild ease, despite their past relations that should set a glaring example how he should have solved the problem before it even started. Or just be a good moral person and help the broken abused child, but apparently that's above every person's Greater Good radar."

"Secondly, I wish for you to reach your full potential before we work together. You are still so young, you haven't tasted happiness, felt a lust for life, or seeking for something more that wasn't force via love potions or mild charming. Also, the magic you were denied was straight up offensive, the worst possibly thing you can do to a magical being is block a large percent of their magical core. You have so much potential for what you could do, but unable for how your core was handled. Wandless magic, Occlumency, Legilimency, Necromancy-your own blasted Soul bond was blocked!" Death sounded beyond pissed, his voice rumbled and echoed around the still landscape surrounding the two and Harry could swear to hear distant screams, "That will nicely be correctly by me, you'll have your chance for happiness, it won't be so easy but you'll feel happy in the end," Death's voice smoothed down to a drawl and the screaming vanished, "Thirdly, I was never the one to lay down and surrender to injustice. I try to help out when I see fit with mortals, but with my job compromises must be made," Harry tried to speak again, "You'll be able to talk in a moment, I'll send you back to a time where you won't be pressured into a role unless you force yourself into it. Those compulsions charms, curses, and keyed hatred won't carry over this time, so you should be of clear mind. You will go back to 1942, don't try to disagree as there is no manager to speak with."

"What?" Harry overwhelmingly imported, his voice was somewhat meek as Death rolled his eyes.

"Mortals these days, unable to form a fully functioning sentence without imploding," Death mused, in a mocking tone as he stared down Harry, "Which what? Was that just a close response or did that mean anything to you?"

"What was all that you were saying about," Harry hesitated and found a part of him almost feeling guilty for asking. Dumbledore. Dumbledore was always good to him, he kept him out of the loop sometimes but he was okay... wasn't he? "...about Dumbledore."

"Ah!" Death smiled sharply, his tone a low dark purr as a glint of malice rose in his eyes. Walking towards Harry again, he laughed, "You're really going to hate this."


	2. Adios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summary think, questions about Ron and Hermione, and starting to get into the actual story.

There was just so much to process, so many things Harry never realized or put too much thought into that now seem to make so much sense. Harry never thought of himself as a pawn to someone, he always thought that he was just being guided along the right path, but now… Death was very correct when he stated Harry would hate what he was told. Ignorance was bliss, Harry supposed as now he couldn’t look at anything the same, as he never had the means to truly look at anything. A tingle of despair rang through his soul as his minds danced around similar thoughts that may permanently stain the backdrop of his mind, Dumbledore had used him. Dumbledore, the man Harry looked up to, the Dumbledore Harry almost viewed as a father figure or even more so a mentor-he never cared for Harry. Maybe Dumbledore did, but that care wasn’t even to outweigh the “Greater Good” that Harry’s sacrifice would bring. Harry went through hell and back ignorant of all the plans falling into place, without knowing anything about what was truly around him. Almost every aspect of Harry Potter was forged from the fires of Dumbledore’s callous planning, making Harry the perfect caricature of the Greater Good.

Everything Harry endured, the life he clawed his way through, was all for the apparent Greater Good of the wizarding world. At least that’s what Dumbledore thought before sending another wildcard event to push Harry further into what was needed of him. The childhood he had with the Dursleys was to turn him into something malleable, to have a naive hero-worship attitude to those who saved him. That angelic figure was Ablus Dumbledore, with his caring tones, he grandfatherly care and at the time, genuine appearing concern. With the proper set up to the wizarding world with Hagrid and other small details he at first didn’t register at the time in Diagon Alley, he was set on his path. Draco Malfoy was a key guide to what nudged him down that path, the first pure-blood and Slytherin he met gave him the impression that they were all snobby brats (like Dudley) and his opinions of pure-bloods and Slytherins alike went downhill from there.

First year had carefully sculpted to form just the right circumstances, Dumbledore being quick to shuffle cards and play what he could. Harry landed in Gryffindor with ease, and with Gryffindor came people like Ronald Weasley. Ron was suggested to befriend him by his parents (Dumbledore asked it as a small favor) and Ron was eager to do so because Harry was Harry, the savior of the wizarding world since he was a baby. Why wouldn’t Ron not want to be friends with him? Harry couldn’t blame Ron. It wasn’t like Ron befriended him only because of Dumbledore or his fame (or Harry secretly hoped he didn’t), Ron befriended him for him-it was only later Ron started taking orders from Dumbledore, and even then can Harry really blame him (maybe he should)? Hermione was an accidental wildcard Dumbledore ended up throwing in, but she wasn’t any threat to the overarching plan. Hermione, though Harry loved and admired her greatly, was very absorbed in books. Whatever was written in the books must be true, and everyone in a position of power had to have good intentions, right? This was something akin to Ron’s later problem with jealousy and insecurity compared to others. Everything played out smoothly with Harry facing a shade of Voldemort, which he defeated due to his lingering protection from his Mother.

Second year was similar, with the newest Weasley being introduced. Ginny, someone Harry thought seriously about marrying, was just a ghost to what Harry thought she was. Artificial. Harry would have never guessed his relationship with Ginny would be fake, he thought that he really loved her and she loved him-but that ended up just being another painful (oh so painful) lie. A marriage contract. Something Harry only really heard of about in movies and the occasional whisper of a pure-blood. Harry never really thought about how he kinda just woke up one day and just had strong feelings. Now, he made him feel somewhat sick. That was for later down the line, but now we have Tom Riddle’s diary Horcrux supplied by Lucius Malfoy. Who realistically thought something with such a great amount dark magic would just slip through the powerful wards of Hogwarts? Even more so, if Dumbledore just simply ignored it because Slytherin’s bring in dark artifacts all the time, he should have done something when the Chamber of Secrets magically opened again and another hellish nightmare ensued. With that nightmare, he let three kids figure it out all while lives were on the lines. On top of that, he just watched from the sidelines as Harry was revealed to be able to speak to snakes, being openly mocked for it, as various people whispered that he was the Heir of Slytherin-the one causing all the attacks ending in people getting petrified. Then, Dumbledore just let Hagrid be sent to Azkaban for his possible relations to the attacks (when he knew otherwise), then when Harry was finally in the Chamber of Secrets fighting for his life, he sent down a Phoenix and a hat holding a sword there was a chance it wouldn't even work for Harry. This effectively left a twelve year old fighting a basilisk as well as a large piece of Tom Riddle’s soul all while trying to save a dying eleven year old girl. Harry should have died in the Chamber, as if he was anyone else he would have died. Even Death made a comment about almost reaping his soul then.

Third year was entirely ridiculous, as the absolute injustice that caused third year should have never happened. Only when Dumbledore was involved, it usually seems every insane option or every unachievable bad prospect was more likely to occur. Sirius Black should have never even ended up in Azkaban, the mere thought of Dumbledore thinking it was justified to have Sirius rot in prison while his soul was slowly drained by Dementors is rage invoking. Dumbledore had evidence that Sirius was innocent, and Pettigrew was the one who ratted out Lily and James. Dumbledore was the one who put Pettigrew as the secret keeper, effectively spelling an end to the Potter’s lives. The whole have no trial “mistake” from Fudge was one thing, but it was a completely another issue that Dumbledore allowed Sirius Black, a man loyal to him and even a member of the Order of the Phoenix, to die in prison. For the Greater Good.

Fourth year was self exclamatory. Fourth year was a disaster through and though, and it was depressing Dumbledore didn’t know Barty wasn’t Mad Eye-what was Harry kidding? Dumbledore had to know, he was supposedly Mad Eye’s good friend. Then the fact of allowing the Triwizard tournament in the first place, the Triwizard tournament was banned for a good reason, and letting the tournament come back was a stupid move. Then, Harry being admitted into the tournament itself was a headache (and a large amount of trauma) that could have been avoided. Dumbledore should have tried to figure out something, as it would have avoided a multitude of issues. For example, the clear lack of reviving Voldemort in a Graveyard would be nice. Cedric Diggory not dying would also be a nice touch.

Fifth year was a complete disaster before the school year even got the chance to start, with the preventable attack and the garbage fire trial that was forced on Harry by the ministry. Dumbledore decided to be the gracious, merciful, and overall benevolent man he was, fought for Harry, and allowed Harry not to be expelled from Hogwarts. The year, of course, got worse as the universe hates anyone named Harry Potter. Dolaris Umbridge being chosen by the ministry to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was a mistake. Who would have thought that? Not anyone I guess. Using blood quills on students as a form of discipline (cough cough torture cough cough) was totally socially acceptable! As long as all the kids being tortured were Muggle-borns, Half-bloods and "Blood Tratiors" it was fine, totally fine. Nothing wrong with that, as pure-bloods are superior in every way shape, and form. Even the incest is superior for some reason.

Stepping away from the school, we have the sheer amount of slander the Daily Prophet decided to write. Harry’s magical guardian should have stepped in and sued the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore decided tea and lemon drops were more important. This was most likely because the Greater Good doesn’t require a hero to be happy before they save the wizarding world from a corrupted snake-face all while dying in the process. Nice.

Do you know what else is nice? Having Voldemort send Harry visions. What is even better? Having Dumbledore decide the best decision to remedy this was to have Severus Snape teach him Occlumency. Maybe the Greater Good wasn’t interested that day to remedy anything other than what they wanted, as Snape wasn’t the best choice. Realistically, Harry could learn Occlumency with the amount of magic blocked, it would just be a long process. Only, Snape loathed Harry with a burning passion, and for him being expected to honestly teach Harry to remain calm and shield his mind was laughable. The simple truth was, Snape even with his bullies being long dead, apologetic, ignorable, or far too frightful to speak to him, he wanted revenge. It was childish that he took his pent up anger out on Harry. It was no surprise that later he received a fake vision from Voldemort about his godfather being tortured. I wonder who leaked that information to the snake lord? With Harry’s group of friends from the DADA group, that also happened to get Dumbledore kicked out of the school for existing, he was tricked into traveling to the ministry to collect a prophecy that caused all this mess. The whole thing was predictably a ploy, as Death Eaters attacked and demanded the prophecy orb. The teenager fight DADA fight club fought back. These teenagers were about to surely get gruesomely murdered for fighting against actual war hardened, somewhat bloodthirsty Death Eaters, but then the Order of Kentucky Fried Chicken arrived to save the day! With the battle moving to other areas of the ministry, they end up fighting in the veil room. Sirius-then Sirius fell into the veil. With the last words of, “Come on, you can do better than that!”

Harry could still remember Sirius’s face, the fear, and nearly instant regret. Sirius falling through the veil seemingly lasted forever too, and it was forever in his mind. Just after he saw his godfather die, he had to “face” Voldemort. Of course, this ends in him nearly getting possessed but Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, decided the Greater Good doesn’t support possession and forced Voldemort to retreat.

The next year seemingly got worse. Over the summer, Voldemort got further sway in the ministry, and send a special Slytherin on a mission in the heart of Hogwarts to prove himself. With Horace Slughorn teaching Potions, Snape moves over to teach DADA, which was terrible in two ways. One being the fact Snape was the teacher of Defense, ruining the entire class for Harry. Two, the fact Snape couldn’t teach him whether he liked it or not because he was a full-time Death Muncher now, they never liked Harry, sadly. In potions, Harry got the “The-Half-Blood-Prince” potion book, which unbeknownst to him belonged to Snape himself. Dumbledore decides to be in a very educational mood this year for completely non-selfish reasons and started to show Harry pensive memories of people who were close to Voldemort under the pretense of helping Harry later. Besides the Dark Lord and the pensive problems, Ron got dosed by a love potion by Lavender, and Harry himself got a diluted dose keyed to Ginny Weasley. Ron and Harry being young and “in-love” were both distracted with either of their love-interests, making Hermione grow more jealous of Ron’s attraction to Lavender.

When love potion grew dosed down enough for more free will and clear thinking, Harry acted as the Quidditch Captain and followed Draco Malfoy around. In one of these free will sessions, Harry and Dumbledore go out to try to reclaim Merope’s locket. The event goes about as well as could be expected, and they get the “locket”, when they arrive back at Hogwarts Dumbledore is weak, perfect for what was bound to happen next. With a winding Dark Mark hanging ominously above the astronomy tower, they investigate only for Dumbledore to be forced to use the last portion of his strength to ensure his weapon didn’t interfere with what happened next. With Harry out of sight under the invisibility cloak, Malfoy rushes into the room and threatens Dumbledore’s life. The man was weak, he was at the end of his lines and stalls, only from what Harry could guess to be hoping for someone else to show up and help. Snape helpfully shows up. Only he brought his fellow Death Eaters in tow, in a move that could only be called mercy, Snape kills Dumbledore. With Dumbledore dead, Harry was free from the spell put on him, and instantly does the smart thing of trying to avenge Dumbledore. Harry attacked Snape, the man of course escapes with other Death Eaters, and to add more salt to the wound, Harry soon discovers the locket was a fake.

The following events spoke of the life Harry lead, and the like that was just ended for him. The months and months of Horcrux hunting and then the battle of Hogwarts… it was all gone and all the context and content was a lie. Harry’s purpose was void, what he was made to do in life was over and done. But he was done too. Harry didn’t want that life, if he could he’d do everything differently. Lead his own life, forge himself in his own fires.

“Are you done staring off into what I can only guess to be alternate dimensions with a dazed expression, or do you need more time?” Death interrupted, with a scowl, “I would like to finish this in the next century, I am setting you up with all you need to be… ‘happy’. I’m giving you pawns to play,” Death paused for a second, “I suppose it is a given you should think before you act.”

“When can I start?” Harry asked, looking over to Death who scoffed. Harry glanced away, and once again got the acute feeling Death didn’t like him, but at least he wasn’t nearly as bad as Snape.

“When can I start? _When can I start?_ This is seriously your thought process? I knew mortals could be thick brained but that’s the only question you can come up with?” Death scowled down at Harry again, his dark eyes narrowing. Harry fidgets uncomfortably, as Death produced a rattled sigh, “I need to cut you some slake, don’t I? You must be very eager to start your new life, congratulations,” Death sounded bitter, the tone making Harry look up at him. Harry followed Death’s gaze to the still forms of Ron and Hermione still sitting next to his body.

“You can start whenever you wish, I have already picked the scenario that will get you put into Hogwarts for your fifth year. I must assure you, this scenario won’t be good for you at first. Your name will be Hadrian Peverell, you will soon be captured by Grindelwald’s forces in Britain in his search for the Deathly Hallows. You won’t have them with you, or in the apartment building that you were staying in. You will be taken to a newly established stronghold in Britain, where they will try to forcefully take the information from you. Don’t worry about that part, but the may try to use physical means to get what they want. They get drove out and you get taken in by the British Ministry, and bang-” Death unenthusiastically did jazz hands with a gloomy look on his face, “You are in control from that point, I very heavily suggest you go to Hogwarts, but even that is your choice. If you ever need to speak with me, either kill yourself or summon me by asking. By asking, just politely ask for me aloud.”

Death looked over at Harry, “The Deathly Hallows are in Gringotts, but to summon them you just need to call them with your magic”

“Call them with my magic?” Harry inquired hesitantly.

Death stared at him, “Really now? Really?” Death sounded annoyed as he scowled at Harry again, “In simple terms, you need to let your magic loose and state your intent. Make sure you have your intent clear or it won’t work. Now, please agree to leave as I want you out of my sight.”

“Can I ask one other thing?” Harry asked again, he watched as Death’s face twitched with annoyance.

“You already asked one thing, but according to common courtesy, I am obligated to reply with a positive response,” Death flatly said, looking unimpressed. Harry remained silent for a second, “Yes.”

“Will I be sent to an orphanage or something when I get sent to the British Ministry?” Harry asked, fidgeting with his hands.

“No, I’ve arranged you to be technically emancipated and as such you don’t have to be sent anywhere. If they try to force you with some reasoning, they are lying. The Peverell vault in Gringotts is full of everything you need, if you need more you can employ the likes of the Gryffindor vault or Ravenclaw Vault. If you wish I can give you access to a few other vaults, like the Potter or Black,” Death explained, his voice smoothing out, “With the Potter or Black vault, you’ll only have access to the heir vault they have for all of their children.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“Ah, I suppose I should also tell you a few other things,” Death mused, not acknowledging Harry’s response, “Your form will be mostly the same as it is now, just a few less Potter features. That means you keep the scars, including the one on your forehead. You may still get pain from Riddle,” Death paused, taking note of Harry’s questioning expression, “Don’t ask me to explain, I won’t do so willingly.”

Harry nodded, “Makes sense, I guess.”

“I sure hope it does,” Death mumbled mostly to himself.

Harry pursed his lips, not replying as he turned his gaze away from Death and back to Hermione and Ron frozen in time. Death remained silent as Harry sighed and looked back to Death, “Can’t I stay here? Go back to first year or something?”

Something unrecognizable flickered across Death’s face before he shook his head, “You could, but you shouldn’t. They won’t be the same anyway and would you really want to be trapped in the body of an eleven year old? You’d have to just do everything over again.”

“I could fix it,” Harry defended himself, a small scowl on his face as he turned slightly to look over to the three Malfoys’, “I can fix everything.”

“You sure about that?” Death snorted, as he rolled his eyes, “You can’t fix everything even if you tried.”

“But I can try,” Harry said, as he looked back over to Ron and Hermione, “They aren’t bad people, they just were in a bad situation.”

“Right,” Death said in an unimpressed tone, “I really don’t care what you think, I’m telling you it wouldn’t go well.”

“Why?” Harry asked looking back at Death challengingly, “Why wouldn’t it work?”

“Alright, I will,” Death coldly said, narrowing his eyes, “Let’s say you kill Dumbledore. That puppeteer's gone, you're free from that and so is everyone else. Victory right? No. Dumbledore was the force that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters feared, without Dumbledore Voldemort would be able to get his way in the wizarding world much quicker. Voldemort’s ideology is everywhere, it’s people like Dumbledore that make people feel like they’d never win against the light. Without such a figurehead, the wizarding world would be in such shambles and you wouldn’t be able to correct anything.”

“I-”

“Let’s say you kill Voldemort and get all of his Horcruxes,” Death sharply cut him off, “We have Dumbledore around, how do you think he’s going to react to you? He’ll see you as the next Riddle, especially if he knows it was you who killed him. You definitely wouldn’t be able to hide the fact you have lived this already, and he would uproot everything because of that. If Voldemort mysteriously died, the Death Eaters would know, and some that managed to maintain links with him would attempt to track you down. While that’s going on, the Dark magic and Dark rights are being entirely torn down for Light Magic privilage. Dark Creatures would be imprisoned or killed, Dark wizards and witches would be shunned or eventually even banned from magic as a whole, and Dark magic would be banned entirely straining the magical balance more than it already was. Either way, you’d destroy the world as you can’t fix everything. You aren’t some infallible hero.”

“But-”

“If you kill both, the world would be in shambles from Dumbledore’s death, and without Voldemort another group would rise to take his place. You saw how the Ministry handled it last time, and you can’t fix them, can you? You can’t fix this, it’s far too broken to fix, you can just move on and leave it behind,” Death finished finally, staring down Harry.

Harry fished for something to say before he said, “What if I play both sides like Snape?”

“Snape ended up dead,” Death flatly replied, “You can’t just do what Snape did, either. You aren’t in Snape’s position. Voldemort would double cross you anyway, Dumbledore would be out to stop you as he'd think you'd be next Tom Riddle, Ron would hate you for being dark, and Hermione the same. Wouldn’t work.”

Harry silently looked away from Death and looked hopelessly over to Ron and Hermione, “What about them?”

“The mortals?” Death mused after a moment, “The world goes on without you, you’ll be regarded as a hero who sacrificed yourself. They end up having married with four kids, Ron is an Auror before he becomes a stay at home parent and Hermione eventually becomes the Minister of Magic.”

Harry felt a pang, “So they live, even if I leave?”

“Yes,” Death nodded.

“What did they name the kids?” Harry asked quietly, as he moved over to Ron and Hermione again, ignoring his body as he looked down at the two.

“Rose Monica Granger-Weasley, Harry Hugo Granger-Weasley, and two twins Fred and George Granger-Weasley,” Death rattled off with ease.

“Did something happen to George, too?” Harry hesitantly asked Death who gave a small paused

"“George ends up committing suicide,” Death flatly said after a few seconds.

“Oh,” Harry quietly says, lets out a shaky breath, “What about Ginny?”

“She divorced Dean Thomas after being married to him for three years, she also had a child with him,” Death nonchalantly said, with a small shrug, “She ends up with Luna Lovegood.”

“Luna?” Harry blinks, looking over to Death with surprise.

“Are we done?” Death asked, his tone shifting to slightly annoyed, “You can always talk to them with the ring later.”

“How does that work?” Harry asked while moving away from Ron and Hermione, “Like would I talk to them how they are now, or..?”

“When they die, you’ll talk to them like how they died,” Death answered, as he took a few steps towards Harry, he swung a hand out to Harry, “Do you agree with the terms I’ve presented in this deal?”

Death’s hand lit up in eerie golden flames that burned with a light blue fire on its outer edges. Harry moved his hand towards Death’s, looking up into Death’s eyes he found instead of the black iris he had grown uses to, Death’s iris was now a muted golden color with some muddled flecks of bright gold. Along with that, Death’s pupils had shifted into taking a more catlike shape. Harry remained still for a moment before he shook off his surprise.

“Deal,” Harry agreed, taking Death’s hand. Death’s hand was cold as a corpse, the skin lifeless and clammy. The chill almost made Harry yank his hand away, but Death tightened his hand in his as gave a firm shake. The world broke into color again, as a sharp breeze rolled by, out of the corner of his eyes he saw Hermione’s hair even be jostled by it. The sound of a few loud tics rang in Harry’s ears as his vision rapidly began to fade away. Harry panicked slightly, as Death let go of his hand and he felt the world tip.

Harry found himself falling into a pure black void as a single word marked his reach to unconsciousness, “Adios.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have one more shorter chapter before we get into the actual full 10000 word chapters. 
> 
> Also, I'm probably gonna link a drawing of Death and/or Harry sometime soon. Tiernan too, because I just wanna draw him anyway and I would guess some of you would like to see how he looks like. Or how I picture him to look like, anyway.


	3. Take this Seriously

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight to what actually was Hadrian Peverell before Harry, more Samuel than the original, Grindelwald exchange. 
> 
> TW: Implied overdose/suicide, torture, kidnapping, death. The normal stuff.

Harry felt himself slowly waking up again, his mind slowly moving into place as he relaxed into the bed he was on. With a small yawn, he opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he remained mostly still. Ah, the Hogwarts dorms had never felt more comfortable. After yesterday, the feeling of being back was excellent. Harry reached up and rubbed his eyes, his eyes feeling a bit hazy. After quietly rubbing his eyes for a few seconds, he yawned again and pushed himself upright. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he reached over to his nightstand to feel around for his glasses. Instead, he found his hand passing through thin air. Muttering to himself he blinked his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision more, he tried to squint around the dorm to see if his nightstand had been moved or he accidentally placed his glasses elsewhere, when his vision started to clear. Giving an itch to his neck, he looked over to where his nightstand usually was and found nothing. 

Frowning to himself, he quickly got to his feet and looked around the room. He wasn’t back in Hogwarts anymore, that was for sure. Harry’s eyes jumped from the two doors in this room and his mind jostled further to life with the realization his eyesight was being sharper than usual. Way too sharp. With a small rush of panic, he swerved his gaze around further. There was only the bed he rolled out of, and a surprisingly large overzealous looking desk in the corner of the room covered with a massive amount of books with parchment sprinkled in seemingly random places. 

Hesitating for a moment, he wondered what he should do. Harry didn’t recognize where he was and more so he was completely alone. What wasn’t he remembering? The last thing he remembered was looking over to Ron and Hermione after finally watching Voldemort fall. Did something happen? Did he hit his head-almost like a flip was switch memories violently launched themselves into the forefront of his mind, making him stumble back into the wall. 

Harry held his head in his hands with wide eyes as he stared down at the pristine floor. He died. Lucius fucking Malfoy killed him. Harry’s the Master of Death. Harry’s in the past. Grindelwald’s time. Harry took a shaky breath as he felt anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach, he didn’t have Ron and Hermione to help him anymore, he didn’t have his friends by his side anymore. Harry was completely and utterly alone, a feeling of depressive loneliness gnawed at him. The silence in the room felt stoic and cold, as he raised his head and looked around once again. Grindelwald should be here soon. A Dark Lord should be here for him, and he didn’t have anyone. Only reassurances from Death and those could hardly be counted as reassurances. No one. It felt like the summer again, only they weren’t just not answering his letters, they were gone. They never existed. Their parents haven’t even existed yet. Only their grandparents are alive, making Harry truly alone. Only this time, he never even got to say goodbye. Harry just mourned with them next to his own body. 

“Not the time,” Harry mumbled to himself, pushing himself off the wall as he peered between the doors and the desk. Grindelwald. Harry just needed to pass the time and soon he’d be at Hogwarts again where he could make his own life for himself, without the shadows of Voldemort or Dumbledore. No Greater Good dominating his life, he was free. Harry could check out the two doors look exactly the same, or the desk. 

Harry took a few steps over to the desk, energy pulsing nervously under his skin, his bones and muscles pushed for him to move. His body wanted to run, do what he’s done for months, and just escape the bad guy. Only this time, it was in the midst of Horcrux hunting with Ron and Hermione with every day having a looming threat of Voldemort and Death Eaters. Harry was alone, with his best choice actually is being caught by the bad guys. Grindelwald’s men, Alliance, if Harry remembered correctly would be his start. Whether he liked it or not. Harry reached the desk and picked up one of the stray pieces of parchment paper. 

_ Dear M,  _

_ I’m cornered, and at the end of my line. Tired, and slowing down. I don’t think I can escape this time, I just wanted to tell you a few things. Don’t worry about me being captured, I’ve got some meds that’ll do the trick and make it some there’s no chance someone will be able to save me. Don’t look for me, I never told you my full name or my identity for a reason. Just don’t. So, by the time you’ve read this I’ve killed myself. I will be dead. My life was nothing short than a disaster anyway, and time always keeps going by faster, but all that doesn’t matter now. I’ve thought about this for a long time since I was nine I think, and I’m just done. I’m taking matters to my own hands, I really can’t picture myself as a grown man. I won’t make it that long, I’m not going to be overly optimistic or stupid. I really- _

The letter cut off, and the last sentences were harshly scribbled over with thick ink. Harry pursed his lips and curiously picked up another piece of paper. 

_ Dear Grit,  _

_ Hey, how are you? Hopefully better than me. Life’s shit on my end, and I’m finally throwing the towel in like you thought I should do. Took your advice on what to use. Have a good life.  _

_ -PH _

Setting that letter down he picked up another one and saw it was similar, all the unfinished parchment letters seemed to be unfinished suicide/goodbye notes. Setting down the one he held, he found one that looked more interesting-due to its bottom half completely scribbled away-he picked that one up and started to read.

_ Dear M,  _

_ This is the fourth time I’ve tried to write this letter, you always said I was good with words but my words are really failing me right now. So, let me try this again. I’m cornered, I can’t escape this time. I tried last night and saw familiar faces everywhere, if I try to leave they’ll shoot me down. I’m just so tired, so so tired. I’m tired of trying, I’m tired of running. Whatever happens tomorrow or the next day happens, fuck it. I won’t be around for it anyway. I’ve mentioned Grit a few times before, haven’t I? I’m taking the advice he gave me a few years back, got the meds and I got the liquor.  _

_ Just don’t look for me. I mean it. Don’t. It was a bad choice for me to even maintain contact with you. So, to be clear. I’m quitting. I’m baling, and I’m done frankly. I’m finally just giving up. It may be the coward's way out, but everyone always thought I was a coward anyway. I’m so done trying to live up to all the expectations everyone set for me since I was a kid, I’m taking my life and my destiny into my own hands. That’s being strong, right? Rather than letting someone else kill me, I’m killing myself. What am I kidding… I’ll always be pathetic- _

Harry stopped reading and tossed the paper down. Harry watched it fall back down to the desk, as he felt thoroughly bothered. He took the place of a real person. Hadrian Peverell was a real person before him, and he seemed to have killed himself. Giving a glance around the room, he found something that caught his eye. On the floor next to his bed was a small red bottle, it innocently sat with some liquid dumped around it littering the floor. Morbidly curious, Harry cautiously walked forward and bent over and picked up the bottle. Flipping it over, he looked down somberly at the labeling, that simply read Heroin, and at the bottom was the name of the company that produced it. Harry threw it back down on the ground and wondered how he got his hands on something like that. It was the 1940s, and it was easier to get drugs back (now?) then, but having something that straight up was liquid heroin? 

Harry turned away and spared a glance at the desk before he started walking for the doors, holding one of his hands away from himself awkwardly. He got some of Heroin on it, and he wasn’t going to just have liquid Heroin on his skin. Reaching his clean hand out, he hoped it was a bathroom as he pulled the wooden oak door open. Inside was exactly what he wanted, a small bathroom. The bathroom had all the essentials, nothing more or less. Looking over to the sink, he grimaced at what appeared to be blood by the drain, but other than the specks of blood the entire bathroom was spotless. Harry could even see his reflection in the white tile floor, Harry reminded himself he had Heroin on his hand so he rapidly stepped inside the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Harry was quick to also reach for the soup, he got soup on his hands before he put them under the water and cleaned thoroughly. While he rubbed his hands he watched the blood in the sink start to be washed away by the water flow, uncomfortably he looked up to above the sink. 

Harry caught his eyes in the mirror, making himself pause. Death had said he’d look mostly like himself, and he did. Harry looked similar but had a fair amount of differences. Harry seemed paler than before, his eyes gleamed the same emerald tone that reminded him of the cold grasp of the killing curse, and his hair was the same dark black. Only, his hair was longer and went down to his shoulder blades and at the length it now as it didn’t look raggedy it looked… nice. It reminded him of Sirius, Harry glanced down at his hands and quickly deemed them washed enough. Pulling his hands out from under the water, he shut the water up and quickly reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. Harry smiled a little as he watched his reflection in the mirror. Aunt Petunia would never let him have long hair. 

“Long hair is for girls,” She’d always say when Harry was younger protesting getting his haircut, “Boys with long hair are always queers and we don’t want any gays under this roof around my Sweet Cheeks. He won’t be affected by the likes of you!” She’d go onto say while he was thrown back into the dark recesses of his broom closet. The closet would close and Harry would be alone with the only company of the various spiders. Even now, Harry could feel his fear and hatred for that closet. The darkness pressing around his younger self, the feeling of bugs crawling on you even if there was none. Staring at himself in the mirror he shook his head and felt hated rise in him. The feeling almost caught him off guard, as he’d only felt hatred for Voldemort or Bellatrix mostly and just feeling it so strongly… it coldly settled in his stomach and made him scowl in remembrance of her in the mirror. Hatred. A feeling Harry never once before was able to associate with Petunia before, disliking sure, but never actually hated. If Aunt Petunia was alive today, he’d get revenge on her and Vernon some way or another. The two of them were probably so overjoyed when they heard what happened to Harry. They always hated him and wanted him to suffer, of course, they’d be happy that he finally died. Harry wondered who told them, maybe Hermione as she was the one who usually had to deal with Muggles. Oh, what a depressing thought. 

Harry couldn’t do anything about Petunia or Vernon, as the two of them haven’t even been brought into existence yet. With a small sigh, his glare dropped as he moved a hand out and touched the mirror gingerly. Harry paused as he saw something bright red on his hand, drawing his hand away from the mirror he wondered if he somehow got blood on his hand. Flipping over his hand to look at his palm, he found writing. Frowning a little, he started to read. 

_ You should be careful! Get your other hand, quickly now! _

_ \- Regretfully, Death _

Harry blinking staring down at his hand in bafflement. When did Death even get a chance to write on his hand? Harry literally just washed them, slowly raising his other hand he read words on his other palm;

_ Have fun, “Master!” _

_ \- With much Love, Death _

“What-”

Ropes sprung up from the floor not unlike when he faced Quirrelmort in first year, they slithered and winded around him like they were sentient, quickly wrapping tightly around him making it impossible for him to move. Harry tried to hop backward, but he unsurprisingly fell over and found himself whacking roughly against the edge of the bathtub. Adding more insult to injury, his hair had fallen over and covered his eyes making it almost impossible to see. Dazed, he started to rapidly shake his head to like a wet dog to clear his vision.

“Silencio,” darkly murmured a smooth voice from the doorway, Harry was absolutely delighted to find himself unable to speak again as he attempted to stare up at the person, “Well, well, we finally got you! You gave us quite a run fun, I trained a few recruits with your case. We all detest the fact you forced us into Muggle London to capture you, but alas, you just caused us to kill two birds with one stone. It’s going to be very rewarding to burn this place to the ground.”

Silence settled as Harry finally managed to fling his hair out of his face, he found himself glaring up at a man with dark brown hair that was classically slicked back, glimmering dark eyes, and a wiry frame that seemed unusually skinny. All to top it off with a sharp smirk that strongly reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy.

“Ward the room quickly pleased, I would like a word,” the man finally said with a dismissive wave of his hand, his expression faded to looking unimpressed as he looked over his shoulder into the bedroom where more Alliance members must be lurking. 

“Yes, Samuel, sir!” A few voices answered, many sounding on the younger side, closer to Harry’s age. The dubbed Samuel turned back to him and calmly pulled out his wand. Samuel quietly said a muffling charm, before his attention shifted over to Hadrian. 

“I would say it was nice to see you, but we both know that’d be a lie, isn’t that right, Hadrian?” Samuel asked in a mocking tone, the man took a few steps forward and Harry tried to roll away, “I yet again request you just join the Alliance, you don’t need to die and your past grievances can be forgiven. You must know how selfish you’re being, as you can be perfect Hadrian, all you need to do is let us make you perfect,” Samuel took a few sleek steps forward, eyeing down at Harry with something that made him squirm, “You know the end of all of this, I know you do. You will die, the world goes on. You are nothing know, you’ll rot and be forgotten, but we can make you great. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to make history? I can help you be more than just your name, little bird. Nod if you agree.” 

Harry stared up at Samuel flatly. 

“Tch,” Samuel rolled his eyes, “Always the difficult one I suppose, but that is what I like about. I suppose when your mind is broken, that will be lost, a shame really. Great minds aren’t the most common these days. Shame, a great shame, Hadrian.” 

Samuel leaned back against the sink, staring down at Harry with half-lidded eyes, “I’d like to duel you one last time, but I’m afraid we can’t even have that. So much potential, so much potential squandered because you are such a selfish person. Who am I to say, I’m quite selfish in my own right. But you…” Samuel trailed off, a sneer on his lips, “You’re always so prone to defend the lesser members of our society, disgusting. It’s always a shame to see people waste time on something that will never yield for them, and even more when you won’t even admit you’re wasting your time. Suppose you can’t argue with ignorance.” 

Samuel straightened, waving his wand making the muffling charm fall, “Brian, take him away.” 

“Yes, Samuel!” A voice answered, a boy came in that looked around Harry’s age, he had brown hair and dark brown skin. 

“Oh, and don’t you worry Hadrian, I’ll pay you a courtesy visit tonight,” Samuel drawled as he sharply watched Brian walk into the bathroom, Harry tried to shift away from the Alliance member as Brian stepped over his legs. Meeting the other teen's eyes, Harry saw excitement in his eyes as Brian leaned down and roughly pulled Harry up to his feet. Struggling, Harry tried to pull away from Brian as he was forced to lean against him. 

“Don’t try to escape, it’ll only make things difficult for the both of us,” Brian whispered harshly, drawing his wand. 

“Do try and stay alive,” Samuel drawled before he laughed harshly, he turned around his black cloak spinning around him dramatically, “Take him away, we have a city to burn.”

Without another second the world spun, making Harry shut his eyes and grow still as they started to be zapped away. Harry leaned heavily against Brian as he closed his eyes, Harry noted the traveling wasn’t making him as sick as usual. Not to say it was at all pleasant, as when they plopped down in the middle of a cornfield Harry felt his stomach lurk worrying. Blinking, he tried to analyze his surroundings only to get enough time to note the dark clouds lingering in the sky, a sharp autumn breeze whisking past, and the smell of rain in the air. They shifted again, Brian ended up doing this three more times. Once they landed on the edge of a slow moving creek surrounded by thick trees, the other time they ended up in another cornfield, and lastly they made it to what must be their destination. Harry peered around where they landed, despite the urge to keel over and puke. Harry’s bare feet pressed against the cold slightly damp dirt, he shivered slightly as he looked up at the tall imposing fence surrounding the area before he noticed the multiple guard posts. Each guard post had three to four men, and with that, they had a few dozen men pointing wands at him and Brian. 

“It’s Brian Killmurr with a prisoner, Hadrian Peverell,” Brian quickly explained.

“Go to room seven, the Dark Lord awaits your arrival with the Good Doctor,” Stiffly spoke a bald man that lowered his wand, causing a chain reaction causing all around to lower their own. 

“Yes sir,” Brian said before he uncaringly yanked Harry forward.

“Hold on,” The bald man drawled, making Brian freeze, “Take Markus.” 

A man fully covered from head to two in a cloak silently stepped forward, Harry glanced away from the eerie man. A little obsessive not to show any skin at all, but Harry could respect it he guessed. Brian resumed a few seconds later to drag him forward again, Harry winced as a rock stabbed his feet, making him almost topple over. In a blink of an eye, the cloaked man caught him and shoved him at Brian with a grunt. 

“Watch it,” Markus grumbled. 

“S-sorry,” Brian mumbled as he held tighter onto Harry. They started toward the white walled facility again, the slight added care Brian expressed didn’t stop him from ending up stepping on the broken glass of what appeared to be a Pepsi bottle. Harry mouthed son of bitch, but was ignored as they may not have even noticed. With shooting pains rising from his foot, they end up right outside the door of the white soul sucking building. Harry opened his mouth to say something but was forced to remain mute because of the Silencio.

“Welcome back, Markus and Killmur,” A voice said before the door opened, Harry didn’t know what he expected but instead of dark gloomy halls, he found something else. White. Pure white tile floor, and pure white walls with a pure white ceiling. A completely sterilized white, it was almost nauseating to look at. It sourly reminded Harry of hospitals, only people who come into hospitals usually come out.

Brian forced him forward again as he pressed both feet firmly against the white tile floor, it honestly didn’t do much. Harry just slid along because of the slipperiness of the blood oozing out of one of his feet because of glass. After realizing quickly it wasn’t slowing them down, Harry decided to keep holding his feet against the ground just for the malicious compliance of leaving a blood trail they would have to clean up later. Even if this definitely isn’t some victory, it was a small one he could take. Even if it literally was as small as getting his blood all over the floor of what could most likely be compared to a wizarding concentration/reeducation camp.

As he was dragged along, Harry tried to half heartedly keep track of all the twists and turns of the halls. The only problem is they looked all the same, just long, white and winding. At many points, Harry wondered if they were just going in circles to try and confuse him, the only thing that made him not think that was room numbers and lack of blood on the floor. Brian and Markus did know where they were going, or so it seemed anyway. Staring down at the floor, he watched some blood smear on the floor, way less than before but he was still leaving a blood trail. Harry’s foot had fallen asleep, as it felt numb and buzzing at the same time. That’s life, Harry supposed. Boredly glancing up at the door numbers, he found they were at door three. Pursing his lips, he found them going to four, five, six, and then finally they stopped at door seven. With the arm that wasn’t supporting Harry, Brian stiffly reached forward and sternly knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” answered a flat voice, thick with an accent Harry could vividly remember from the Dumstrange students. Brian firmly reached his hand out and opened the door, he pushed it open mildly and peered into the room before moving Harry inward. Harry choked on air, the room was horrifying and he wanted out. Harry resisted for a moment, he almost fell over again but was held firmly in place by Brian. The room was white, or it was. The walls were white, the tile floor was white. Was white. The room was entirely speckled with blood, a great contrast to the white itself. In the middle of the room, was a chair. Not just a simple chair, Harry could wish, but what was really in place was a bulky, thick metal chair with leather bound straps for the wrists, ankles, head, and torso. A few yards away from that chair, was a flat medical table with a similar assortment of straps. 

Then, the walls were lined with various tools that seemed to be instruments of torture. Only one wall was with these weapons, and that was lined with potions that didn’t look reassuring given the time and place. Near the potions, was a bleak looking desk that sat two men. One of the men had pure white hair, calculating silver eyes that skimmed over Harry intently, he looked very pleased given the smirk on his face. The other wasn’t even looking up at Harry, he was scribbling intently on a piece of parchment with his face obscured by a surgeons face mask with large orange tinted goggles resting over his eyes, what really put him together was the previously white lab coat that had a few spots of blood on it. That really seemed to be the main decoration in the room, as blood was everywhere. 

Blood wasn’t just on the floor, some fresh blood gleamed from the leather straps of the chair, the table had some blood dripping off of it, and the floor was in namely worst conditions. The floor was just covered in mostly dried blood, Harry couldn’t find a spot that was void of the fluid. Only a few spots on the floor had fresh blood. The lighting in the room was supplied by a few candles floating midair towards the ceiling, giving him a small tinge of familiarity. The smell of burning wax and copper resided heavily in the air, Harry could taste the copper tang in his mouth and he couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted. Harry could tell already that he walked into this situation a little to blind, as Death said he was going to be taken by Grindelwald’s troops but this? Harry didn’t quite expect this, he didn’t sign up for- 

Brian dragged him toward again, Harry pulled away defiantly but he knew it was pointless as Markus reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Panic sputtered to life again, as he repeatedly reminded himself that Death wasn’t just going to let him die, so he probably wasn’t. Right? Death wasn’t just going to leave him hanging here. At least Harry hoped so as he tried to relax slightly, only to be thrown down harshly in the chair. Hitting his head on the back of the chair, he found that his vision flickered for a moment before settling back into place. Shit, shit, shit-

“Should I strap him in, Sir?” Brian spoke, bowing lowly with Markus now that Harry was out of his arms. No, you may not, Harry thought to himself as he squirmed. 

“You may,” A silky smooth voice answered, making Harry pause for a second. It was almost familiar how the tone rolled off the man’s tongue, smooth as velvet and calming to a point. If it wasn’t for the situation, Harry would call it calming. With his heart pulsing in his ears, Brian raised his wand. Harry eyed the wand with unease, half expecting a welcoming Crucio. No Crucio came as the ropes unwound themselves silently, and for a quiet moment, Harry was tempted to try and run. For that moment, Harry felt blood rush to portions of his body the rope cut blood flow from, but that feeling was cut off when the leather straps near his ankles tied themselves after a sharp flick from Brian’s wand. Shit. Focused poised back on Brian, who indifferently was staring down at him, he flicked his wand again, and the torso bindings snaked themselves tightly around Harry, holding himself down further.

Harry resisted his urge to fight, as he reminded himself of the outcome of this. Play along and Harry gets to go home, go back to Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t going to die and stumbled on the train to nowhere, he was just going to stumble out alive without another near-death incident. In a way that was purposely slow and patronizing, Harry lowered his arms down to be strapped in. Brian looked annoyed as his eye twitched as the wrist bind shot forward and pinned his arms down. Then following that, the head binds weaved forward, forcing his head upright. 

“It has been done, sir,” Brian spoke, stepping away from Harry and tucking away his wand. 

“Dismissed,” Spoke the silk voice again, Brian and Markus did as told. Brian fled the room while Markus walked at a brisk pace, as the door closed behind him, silence settled in the room. The only sound Harry could hear was a quill scribbling against parchment. Harry felt exposed and restless, as he couldn’t see what the two men as they were behind him, he felt nervousness twist in the pit of his stomach. One of them could launch a Crucio or something at him any second and Harry would have no warning, “Wish to get started, Doctor?” 

“Of course, Gellert,” answered a raspy voice with a similar german accent, two twin chairs etched against the floor, making Harry flinch at the sound. Expectly, two pairs of footsteps approached as the men rounded the chair to appraise Harry. 

The one Harry could assume to be the Doctor held a clipboard and a Muggle pen, as he started to write some words on his clipboard while glancing at Harry occasionally. The other man, the one who was surely Gellert Grindelwald, eyed him critically.

“You know how many men I’ve lost over you?” Grindelwald finally spoke, scowling at Harry. 

Harry opened his mouth to retort, only to find he still wasn’t able to. Samuel’s Silencio didn’t wear off and no one decided to lift the spell. Harry frowned as he closed his mouth wordlessly and glared, feeling more irritated with the fact he couldn’t even talk back. 

“Ten! Ten men that were in service the to Greater Good you either shot down yourself or kill with traps you set up,” Grindelwald hissed, glowering down with enough hatred to make Harry almost put him on par with Voldemort’s. Hadrian Peverell was both a real person and someone who killed Alliance members, that’s something to keep in mind, “Then-then you have the absolutely audacity to attempt to send out suicide notes to all your past family and friends,” Grindelwald kept eye contact with Harry as he reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of parchment paper, “ _ Dear M, I’m sorry, but this world is just not my place. The threats over the horizon are far too great, I feel my past sins crawling on my back and I can’t do this anymore. Look, I never wanted to hurt you, I’m sorry for ever getting involved in your life and I’m just so terribly sorry. If everything goes according to what I expect you’ll never see or hear from me again. I wish you luck _ ,” Grindelwald finished in a taunting tone, Harry watched as Grindelwald silently put the note back into his pocket, “I’m partially surprised you’re even alive, by the sounds of it you were planning to kill yourself. I suppose Peverell’s are always notorious for running as long as they can, then giving into Death, aren’t they?” 

Harry stared at Grindelwald. 

“Well?” Grindelwald snapped, sounding annoyed, “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? Or do those sins got your tongue?”

Harry remained silent. 

“I always hate receiving a silent treatment,” Grindelwald warned, reaching into another pocket to draw out a wand, making Harry’s stomach twist. 

Harry wished he could just talk, but no, Brian neglected to undo the Silencio. Harry couldn’t even stall as he had no words to stall with, he was getting tortured sooner rather than later. 

“Crucio,” The red jetting curse hit him full force, Harry gritted his teeth in silence, his hands balling into fists causing his nails to dig into the palms of his hands. If he was able, Harry would be groaning, as this was pretty awful. Almost on level with Voldemort, as his bones seemed to be shaking and breaking in pain under his flesh repeatedly, while his muscles spasmed and tore, his organs were being ripped out over and over. Pain enveloped his mind, the torture seemed to carry on forever, and the longer it lasted the more he became nothing but pain. No sentient thought process continued other than mental cursing and vague unintelligible feelings. After what had to at least be twenty seconds, Grindelwald stopped. 

Harry would slump over if he was able, but he was prevented by the leather bindings that had deeply dug themselves into his skin because of the writhing he must have been doing. Harry’s breath was harsh, yet muted as he weakly tried to get oxygen in his lungs. Everything crept and stung with phantom pains, nothing was free from pain as Harry forced himself to glare up at Grindelwald. 

“Silencing charm,” Grindelwald mumbled after staring at Harry for a few seconds, he flicked his wand again and Harry found his rough breaths echoing off the walls of the torture room. A struggle to breathe as pain constricted his lungs, Harry yet again couldn’t understand how Bellatrix could even slightly enjoy this, “Speak.”  
“Not a dog,” Harry choked out, after a long pause from Grindelwald his breathing slowly calmed to where he felt like he was actually getting air. A muddled lightheadedness made the room spiral in his peripheral vision as he focused on glaring at Grindelwald.

“Couldn’t tell,” Grindelwald drawled, before he briskly went on in a much more serious tone, “Where are the Deathly Hallows?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, his voice strong yet raspy, his eyes meeting Grindelwald’s narrowed eyes. 

“Let’s try that again so you can rethink your attitude,” Grindelwald said in a scolding before he flicked his wand again, “Crucio.” 

Harry was launched into pain again, keeping his mouth tightly shut he stopped himself from screaming. This one only lasted a few seconds, but that few seconds was harsh. Harry’s body buzzed with more pain, his mind was shaky again, and his breathing came out rough again. 

“You escaped using the Invisibility Cloak, you can’t just say you don’t know. I saw you had them,” Grindelwald said, sounding annoyed as Harry looked bad up at him. 

In a mix of mind fog and pain, Harry replied with, “I forgot.” 

“You forgot?” Grindelwald said in a soft whisper that seemingly promised Death. 

Harry mentally cursed, as he tried to think of something to say. Harry took too long, as Grindelwald harshly grabbed him by the chin and looked Harry firmly in the eyes. A fierce force slammed itself against his mind, trying to claw its way in. It fought and scratched against the barriers of his mind that shouldn’t be his own. The remained strong and the force retracted, Harry could sense the anger and a hint of amusement as it left.

“Don’t see yourself as safe,” Grindewald huffed, letting go of Harry’s chin and taking a step back, “We have all of eternity to correct your attitude, and you know what they say, you can’t avoid destiny.” 

Harry glared up at Grindelwald. 

“So difficult,” Grindelwald murmured, glaring down at Harry, “Tell me where the Deathly Hallows are, or else you will have consequences.”  
Harry silently wondered if being sarcastic would be a bad idea. 

Grindelwald hummed, “Consequences?” 

Harry decided that either way, Harry would be getting ‘consequences’, “Sure.” 

Grindelwald stared him down, “Sure?” he repeated. 

Harry shrugged. 

“You aren’t taking this seriously,” Grindelwald hissed, his glare sharpening, “Do I need to turn up the heat on this operation to get your attention?” 

Harry had a few responses on the tip of his tongue, one being to tell Grindelwald to ask better questions, another being okay and the last one being- “Sure.” 

Grindelwald silently looked between his wand and the wall, he twirled his wand between his fingers before glanced over to the Doctor, “What’s the Doctor’s diagnosis?” 

“The curved slicer would work well,” The Doctor offered, as he paused writing on his parchment. 

Grindelwald nodded and the Doctor started towards the wall, “I would advise you to check yourself.” 

Harry didn’t reply as he watched the Doctor go alongside the wall and eventually picked up a knife. Turning back towards them, Harry felt his stomach drop. That was some scary looking knife. Doctor held it carefully in one hand, it’s blade curled back partially around the handle almost to act as a guard while jagged sharp edges did an odd half-circle, then extended out into a precise looking sharp knife. Harry wanted to go home. 

“Thanks, Doc,” Grindelwald causally hummed as he took the jagged knife carefully from the Doctor, he wrapped his hand around the handle and smiled charismatically over at Harry. The look in Grindelwald’s eye was very telling and Harry knew exactly who was in control of this situation. Grindelwald could slice him into pieces and no one would do anything about it, “You may want to start remembering soon.”

“That’s not how it works,” Harry said, his voice wavering as Grindelwald's smile remained. Grindelwald reached down towards one of Harry’s arms, he yanked up the sleeve and paused.

“I must not tell lies?” Grindelwald said, blinking down with interest at the blood quill scar, “Curious,” Grindelwald mused as he tapped the scarred words edge of the blade, “How curious indeed, maybe you should take that advice.”

“I’ll pass,” Harry glared, he wasn’t going to take any fucking advice from that Toad. Grindelwald smirked as he leaned closer to Harry. 

“Self-righteous people get themselves killed or worse,” Grindelwald tisked, as he slid the knife up Harry’s arm, making the hair on the back of his neck prickle. After holding the blade somewhat firmly against Harry’s arm, he spoke again, “You could always join the Alliance and learn the true meaning of life.”

Harry remained silent.

“Can’t tell him I didn’t try,” Grindelwald shrugged before he firmly pushed the knife into his skin and yanked back, creating a deep cut. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Harry repeated as he watched blood drain out of his arm from the cut. Just as Grindelwald was lowering the knife, a piercing alarm went off, the room flashed with bright red as a shrieking noise filled the air. 

“Invasion! Invasion! All important personnel either evacuate or move to the battle in the west wing!” A frantic voice spoke over the intercom. 

“Oh my,” Grindelwald sighed, pulling away from knife, “We ran out of time,” he said as he took a few steps back away from Harry, “You know what they say, if I can’t have you, no one will!”

“Wha-”

“Avada Kedavra,” Grindeldore ignored him, the haunting green killing curse struck him again. Harry was torn from his body, hanging mid-air again, caught between watching Grindelwald and the Doctor leave and trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Grindelwald sauntered over to the door, he didn’t look back as he slammed the door open and walked out with Doctor trailing after him.

“Already dead?” Death appeared at his side and Harry looked over to him, “I didn’t actually think you’d be stupid enough to die so quick.” 

“Wasn’t this your plan?” Harry scathingly asked, Death cackled and passed him a dark smile. 

“Somewhat,” Death mildly replied as he slunk back, “I only see possible futures, nothing is concrete. I knew this was a possibility, not the one reality.” 

“Great,” Harry muttered, “Do I have to restart until I get it right or something?” 

Death paused, looking somewhat perplexed, “Pardon?” 

“Do I need to restart because I died?” Harry asked Death stared at him, “Do I get to go back?”

“You have so little faith, it disgusts me,” Death complained, “It’s as easy to go back as a well aimed Avada Kedavra, just touch your body and try,” Death answered, looking away as he sneered, “This isn’t some video game where you’ll be pushed to the start if that was the case we’d never get anywhere. I wonder how you were able to progress to the point of possessing the Hallows last time.” 

“Luck,” Harry answered, as he inched closer to his body.

“Luck?” Death mused, shaking his head, “I doubt that.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry waved as he reached out towards his body. 

“Don’t expect much from me,” Death darkly said, a fierce light entering his eyes, “I’m not your friend, nor servant.” 

“I never said you were, jeez,” Harry raised his hands as he looked back over to Death. 

Death scowled and went on, “I do everything on my own volition, I am Death, don’t humanize me-”

“I don’t expect anything from you, just take the thanks,” Harry retorted as he touched his body and tried to will himself back to his body. A moment later he started to fade from Death’s realm and enter his own. Another moment and he was gone, leaving Death standing alone. Death glanced around the room before he looked down at Harry with a frown. 

“Better than I expected, I suppose,” Death murmured, as he floated his way toward the room's shadows. Death watched as two British Auror’s peered into the room wands raised as they found Harry. One ran over as another defensively stood, the one that ran over checked Harry’s pulse. 

“I wonder if I should have told him about the poison.” Death mused to himself before he vanished. Things needed to be done elsewhere. Things certainly would be interesting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the picture just wouldn't work, so I'll figure that out some other time. In the meantime, if you wanna see it it's at 
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/orionlilius/art/Hadrian-P-Tiernan-L-From-Forsakened-850576989?ga_submit_new=10%3A1596254720
> 
> The DeviantArt account I posted this on is super old, so I don't have any recent works other than the above piece and another watercolor. But yeah, I'm also opening an art request on DA so if you want anything you should check that out. 
> 
> Also some notes above the picture I've linked, I had some problems not gonna lie. Harry's skin ended up being wayyy to red, so oops. Also, style consistency is weird, but you can kinda get the jist of how I draw. Tiernan also will have dark brown hair now. Fight me. 
> 
> So yeah, I think with my writing schedule I'm fine posting like once a day for a while. I think I'll take this weekend off for art and on Monday I gotta go into the city (ew corona). Also thinking about corona, I needa vent real quick. Okay, I live in a rural town with about 3000 people, but the thing is we have lots (lots) or Tourists. So this summer because tourist season we have corona now. The bigger kicker? They won't tell us how many fuckin cases we have. I'm pissed, I know we have a lot because I heard that we have cases out of the largest trailer park in town. That trailer park is also one of the most densely populated areas in my town. But nah, they won't tell us how many cases we have because we could find out who has the corona. Fuck this, this corona thing isn't fun anymore.


	4. Game Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the former chapters of A Minor Oversight, The Beginning, and Goblins, Ministers and Brooding oh no! All in one. So, poison, waking up, The Gringott Goblins, the Minister, and Selwyn being salty.

Everything was criminally woozy, his mind felt dull and his body felt impressively weak. Nothing seems as it should, his mind wasn’t only cloud, but thoughts ended-huh, Harry wondered if he could get any Treacle tarts around this joint-or cut themselves off before they could even be comprehended fully. A pressure was ringing and building inside of his ears, he could feel his eardrums pop and constrict in ways that weren’t exactly painful, but wasn't painless either. We’ll meet again, don’t know where don’t know when- His limbs also felt worn and tired, each feeling like they were weighed down by many large bricks, his stomach kept twisting in on itself as he forced his heavy eyelids open. 

Bright yellow-tinted lights assaulted his eyes, so bright Harry instinctively shut his eyes. Karen is a bitch. Harry opened his eyes and squinted around the room to try to make out his surroundings, his eyes seemingly were refusing to adjust the odd lights, causing everything to be incomprehensible at worst or blurry at least. The hazy outlines of the room weren't telling much, he was on a semi-comfortable bed, the room was mostly empty besides a few cabinets that Harry couldn’t see well enough to even see if there was anything sitting on top of them. The most striking thing in this room was the blocky silhouette of a person. Harry somewhat painfully picked up the fact this person was also humming a tune while doing something on the cabinet.

“H-hwello?” Harry found himself saying with much trials, the words slurring off his lips as if he was high. Did Voldemort have him again? Nah he had to be dead this time, ice cream sounds nice, is icecream in the afterlife? No. That makes it sound like Ron is a bit smart, doesn’t it? Mom? Not right now. Imagine a dragon. That’s boring. Oh, look movement! Trying to zone in his eyes, his eyes bounced back to the person who was scrambling over with something in their hand. 

“Kweuewp yurour eiiyes oepen, pwelease!” The person warbles at him unintelligibly. Harry tried to focus on the person's face but found he couldn’t see through his visions yellow tint or the blur.

“I can’t understand,” Harry groaned, with a pout as his eyes slid shut again. Harry’s ears picked up muffled noises of something clicking on, and one of his eyes was gently pulled open. Making a muffled noise of protest, he tried to raise his limbs to fight away the odd intrusive person (who for some reason why touching his eyes, what the fuck man), but his limbs felt too tired to meet his demands. With a murmur he couldn’t understand in the slightest, the person shined a brighter light in his eyes and he found to lose it. Another slew of words left the person’s mouth in a tone Harry read to be comforting, but mentally Harry thought this person was probably cursing him out. That made Harry sad and not like this person. The person let go of his eyelids and he closed his eyes again. 

Holding his eyes tightly closed, he scowled as he didn’t want this person to touch his eyes again. The person said something again, in a tone that just had to be insulting before forcing his other eye open, ignoring Harry’s attempt to resist. Ah, fuck he’s been shot with a worm on a string- The bright light was back to shining in his eyes, but after a few seconds it was gone again. Harry revolted at this horrendous treatment so in a show of defiance he kept his eyes firmly shut. Wasn’t Harry a guest? Was it normal to pry guest’s eyelids over? Harry hoped not. Suddenly, Harry vividly remembered that one time he watched two kids lick each other's eyeballs. Harry was disgusted. Harry wouldn’t like to remember that. Help, he’s drowning! Everyone was just mean, gross, and disgusting. Like Snape! Everyone is just Snape secretly wearing a disguise, everyone-oh no everything is Snape. Harry felt choked up of his supposed hard-hitting revelation, so much so he started to notice his eyes burning slightly. Ron and Hermione were gone. Harry lost Ron and Hermione too. How is Harry supposed to fight Snape now without Ron and Hermione? 

“Calm down,” A harsh voice hissed at him, making him flinch, “Everything is going to be fine, just relax. You were poisoned by Grindelwald with that knife stunt, everything will get worse if you continue to panic. Understand?” 

Harry felt terribly hot as he tried to nod, but found himself unable to even do that. Instead, he whimpered as everything felt further from his control. 

“You said something about luck the other day,” the voice that was oddly familiar coldly chuckled before going on, “You don’t seem that lucky, most people would be dead by now. Of course, unlike most death isn’t the end of the line for you, and I won’t let it be. Dry the mortal tears and allow yourself to go back to that restful state you were in. Your magic is healing you, just trust it to do its job.” 

Trying to make a small noise to signal some sort of agreeance, Harry felt his mind fading out of consciousness slowly, drifting away from sentience. Soon, Harry was sleeping again, completely unaware of the unwaveringly watchful eyes of Death never far. Doctors mulled around the room, and Death ignored the mortals in their attempts to treat Harry for the poison. They all seemed in a bit more cheerier and determined state given that the Master of Death did demonstrate they had a chance-even if the little menace only seemed to speak in tongues while not comprehending anything around him. They all saw the little Master of Death as a miracle, as he was the only survivor found in the Grindelwald stronghold. In full view on the daily prophets front page, you would see the media currently calling him the Boy-Who-Lived. Death found this all very ironic and amusing, but he didn’t think Harry would share his opinion when he woke up. 

_

-

_

The next time Harry’s fitful mind found consciousness, he had resumed having a healthy sort of mental clarity. No longer did thoughts seem scrambled or unhinged, his ears didn’t feel like he was underwater, and most of all, his vision wasn’t blurred. Gazing around the room, he gave a glance around the room he was contained in but found everything shrouded in darkness. The only light was a small dimmed oil lamp on a fairly close countertop that only gave hazy edges to the room. Harry pushed himself upright cautiously, he stopped as his head started to buzz uncomfortably as aches and pains rose around his body. Raising a hand he covered his eyes for a moment while taking a few controlled breaths of air. Harry should be safe now. Given his surroundings, he should be in a hospital, most likely Saint Mungo’s hospital. The buzz settled down and he took his hands away from his eyes, the walls were a light gray, with dark gray counters lining two of the four walls that enclosed the room. A quick image popped into his mind of Ron and Hermione coming to visit him, but he harshly reminded himself they were done in their future. The thought made his heart ache and an empty feeling settles in its wake, but he ignored it. 

Harry started to examine the walls of the room, and his gaze settled on one of those pain reading scales that went from one to ten. Scanning over the text briefly, he looked away and to the large window a few inches further down the wall. Eyeing out the window, he saw a dark landscape, that he could just barely make out through the glass. Squinting, Harry could see the outline of a large tree, and other than that there was nothing concrete. Harry pursed his lips, as he told himself if he was still in Grindelwald’s facility, they wouldn’t just let him have a window. 

Finally, Harry’s eyes settled on the door. From a small rectangular glass window near the center of the door, Harry could see a lit hallway with another door across from his room. From the window, the hallway appeared to have no outstanding features. Harry slowly lifted a thin hospital blanket off himself, as he slowly swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Protestings pains rose but he ignored them, as he swung his legs mildly. Yawning to himself, he became aware of his stomach grumbling and gnawing with hunger, he wondered when he could eat next. It seemed to be the middle of the night, but he sure was hungry. Stretching his arms over his head, he became aware of his bladder’s existence. Looks like Harry also needed a bathroom. Harry glanced around the room again, finding no second door he frowned. A bathroom had to be somewhere close by, Harry just had to find it. 

Harry allowed himself to slip off the bed, his bare feet making contact with the cold floor. Maybe that was a mistake, as he felt another wave of dizziness hit him as his legs trembled with weakness, Harry leaned heavily on the bed for support as his vision flickered worryingly. Harry closed his eyes tightly and began breathing in and out deeply in an attempt to relax, slowly the hazy feeling drifted into obscurity. Slowly he opened his eyes open again and waited for a few seconds before taking another step. Without the overwhelming feeling of dizziness, Harry became highly aware of how cold the floor was. Glancing down, he found himself with predictably bare feet and in a hospital gown that went down to his knees. Scoffing he ran his fingers over the flimsy fabric of the gown and wished for anything other than this, even his oversized Muggle clothes from Dudley would work. 

With a need to eat or at least find a bathroom, he had enough reason to take another few steps slowly. Every step he became more assured he wasn’t going faint from dizziness, so with the last few steps to the door Harry took them in rapid succession. Harry grabbed the cold copper door knob with vigor before twisting it open. The door smoothly opened, not a sound echoing through the eerily lit hallway as the heavy silence remained. Harry’s hand remained on the door knob as he questioned himself if he really needed to go to the bathroom. Harry quickly decided he really did, as he nervously stepped out into the hall, his feet all too loudly slapping against the ground. The sound was almost comforting compared to the silence, but he still hesitated again, his hand still lingering on the door knob. Harry swallowed mildly before he silently shut the door, biting the inside of his cheek he glanced behind him for his room number. A glimmering number three was what he was greeted with. 

Giving a small nod to himself, he urged himself to wander down the hall. Harry walked within arms reach of the walls as he walked, doing so he had to quickly pass a few doors, each time passing the urge to peer into the rooms. A few doors down, he found a door labeled with the familiar male bathroom symbols. With haste he pushed the door open, pausing before he shimmied over to the urinal. Harry zoned out slightly as he lifted his hospital gown to pee. 

Gazing around the bathroom, he was somewhat amused with the floral wallpaper. This floral wallpaper seemed to be entirely dotted with various types of poppy flowers ranging in various colors. Stepping away from the urinal, he dropped the gown back down and looked over to the lone sink. Harry inched his way over before turning the hot water on, getting a glob of soap from the dispenser he scrubbed his hands before putting them under the wash. Harry looked into the mirror from on top of the sink, confronted with his tired pale face. Frowning at himself, he shook his head as he finished washing his hands. Shutting the sink off, he shook the water off his hands quickly, as he hobbled past the paper towel ring that hung nearby. Harry wiped his hands on his gown before he opened the door, pulling it open and stepping back into the ghost town of a hallway. Looking critically down the left and right of the hall, he wondered if he should just go back to his room or be more adventurous and find someone to get him some food. Another yawn left him and he decided going back to sleep would be a valid option, maybe if he went back to sleep he could dream something nice. Like the old days before all the trouble, the good times between the bad, the days with Ron and Hermione as they tried to navigate through such a harsh surrounding world. 

Even with many events with them seeming to be tied to the corroded wires of Dumbledore’s puppeteering, Harry wouldn’t mind a dream being ignorant to them. Turning back down the hall to his room, he tip-tied his steps to make sure they were as quiet as possible. Walking with quiet haste, he found himself wistfully thinking of Quidditch with Ron, the times they squashed Slytherin pride in the mud and then danced on its grave. Teaching people the magic of Patronuses to excited students, going behind the back of Umbridge, and her cruel indifference to the well being of students in those dark times. Harry could remember Hermione’s broad smile as her otter swirled around her, the pride and wonder in her eyes as she softly laughed as she looked at her otter fondly. 

Oh, those days Harry will never have back, and the very thought made his heart constrict. Maybe, just maybe, Harry could find something new and better. Even with the goodness of the Golden Trio’s friendship, there was always the toxic times where they turned against him only to return when they saw fit. Even with the toxic side Harry being well aware of, the good in the friendship will be something he’ll always miss. Ron and Hermione, his first friends and two people he still loved like a brother and sister, even if they were gone now, he would never forget them. Harry will never see them and be able to interact in person with them again, but they will never be forgotten. No one was ever going to be forgotten. Even if they may never exist ever again, he will remember them all- Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Luna, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, Hagrid, Cedric, Neville, Snape, even Draco Malfoy-everyone! Harry will live to their names, they will help him take his every step, to fund his motivation to make a better future. None of them deserved to die, all of them deserved happiness or at least a full life. He may never see their faces again (the smiles, the sneers, the scowls, the smirks), or hug them close, or even joke and laugh together again, but they will always be important to him. 

Harry arrived at room three again, he quietly reached out to the door knob. He opened the door and stepped back inside solemnly before closing the door quietly behind him. Harry slowly walked back to the bed, he quietly sat back on the side of the bed and stared down at the ground. Loss and some mourn pulsing inside his veins as he followed the marks on the tile. Harry felt cold. Harry hunched over, setting his elbows on his knees as he covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. This may be his chance to live a happy life, but what about them? They probably missed him. They probably missed him so much that it hurt (just like him), so was it selfish that Harry didn’t push harder to stay with them? Was trying to rewrite history and their potential lives here selfishly? It had to be, at least in some way. Death said their lives were unaffected with his actions here, but how was that even possible? If Harry just time traveled didn’t that mean his ripples in time affected the future? Harry needed to ask Death the next time he saw him. 

Even so, Harry didn’t exactly go back in time purely out of good intentions. Did he go back just to take out his resentment and hatred on something? No. Did he come back just out of goodwill and justice? Somewhat. Harry wanted to stop what Voldemort started, and maybe stop Grindelwald. Still, he wanted to have what he could never have in his first life. A chance to do whatever he wanted, where he could be completely free to make his own choices, not live through compulsions or rose tinted glass, Harry wanted to do things for himself. Not just for everyone else. Harry wanted to live, not just survive. That was something some people would call selfish, but Harry found himself not caring as much as he thought he would. 

Life was days away, he can decide what to do, live an actual life, and step into whatever role he wanted. Sink into a life he wants, make a world with his own intentions. No one will stop him, he was free, a small grin slipped on his face. Free, such an odd and empowering word. Sitting up again, he put his hands behind his head and laid back down on his bed. Shifting around on the hospital bed, he tried to relax. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind, he took a long deep breath before forcing himself into sleep. Harry hoped sweet dreams would greet him with open arms, which he did dream just not a very sweet one. 

_ “Boy!” Roared a familiar voice, terror darted through him like electricity making him jump to his feet, head hitting the top of the stairs. Harry didn’t have enough time to process that as the door slammed open, an angry large man glowered at him, only a small boy who hasn’t even started school yet. The man’s face was flushed a dark red, with his large beefy hands clutching the small door knob of his closet.  _

_ “Y-yes, sir?” He squeaked, trying to subtly scoot back away from the raging man without it being too noticeable. Harry’s hands gripped the ragged blanket on his bed, he squeezed tightly out of fear as the man leered.  _

_ “Don’t act like you don’t know what you did,” Uncle Vernon glitched away, and for a moment stood a tall skinny elderly man with nice fantasy clothes like on TV was scowling down at him, the image quickly flickered back making Harry blink, “you scoundrel you!” Vernon once again resumed bellowed, his face seemed to be a darker shade of red that possible as the young boy shrunk back in terror, his back hitting the wall as he curled in on himself slightly. _

_ “I-I-I do-don’t know wh-what I did, pl-please I-”  _

_ “Stop lying,” the man snarled before the scene flickered back to the other man, “It’s certainly unfitting for you of all people,” The other man said, his tone laced with disappointment as he shook his head. That man changed again, and Harry found an open hand rushing towards him, Harry tried to flinch back as he snapped his eyes shut, but he found himself being harshly dragged out of his room anyway. He found his hand still holding onto his blanket, making him and his blanket being yanked out of the darkness. Before he could recover, his t-shirt was grabbed from behind his neck and he was yanked upwards. His shirt pressed firmly against his neck, making it hard to breathe as his eyes snapped open, fear coursing through his veins. As he was held above the ground, the blanket was left behind where he once sat. His blurry eyes stared at Vernon's feet, he needed his glasses, he couldn’t even see well enough to do any chores he was asked to do. Vernon swung him in the air and started dragging him, Harry sensed the direction was of the kitchen. His stomach twisted in knots and he felt sick, did he not cook the foot correctly? Did he miss some dirt on the floor again? _

_ Finally, he was dropped to the floor, he kept his head bowed in submission as he heard the shrill voice of his aunt start to speak, “You ate it! Didn’t you, you fat, awful, freak!” Harry knew if he ran they would catch him, he had nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. Instead, he felt tears rise in his eyes.  _

_ “I-i d-don’t kn-know wh-wh-w-what you-you’re-” _

_ A sharp painful slap met the back of his head, and he held back a yelp.  _

_ “The cake, my little baby boy’s cake-” _

_ “WHY! Why did you eat it freak! I wanted my cake,” The voice of Dudley cried, cutting Aunt Petunia off mid-sentence.  _

_ “You stole food, boy,” Vernon sneered at him, Harry trembled as he was scared of what they were going to do to him. He didn’t steal anything, he wasn’t lying, why does this always happen to him?  _

_ “No, I-” He was cut off by being yanked in the air by his hair, making him cry out in pain, tears pooled quickly in his nearly sightless eyes as his hands instinctively shot up and grabbed the offending hands. Instead of relief, he was thrown away, where he hit the wall with another sob. Why did everyone hate him? What did the freaky icky creepy do to deserve this? “Pl-ple-please I di-di-didn’t-”  _

_ “Freak! Don’t fucking touch me!” Vernon yowled in an animalistic way, Harry sat up where he landed nodding his head frantically.  _

_ “Yes, sir! So-sorry, sir!”  _

_ Suddenly a young child like laugh sounded in the room, Harry looked up in surprise and found instead of the kitchen he was in a spacious grass park of sorts, A boy with blonde hair and cruel cold blue eyes stood bouncing a yo-yo up and down, standing next to him was two other boys. One looked down to the ground with a small frown, while the other smiled cruelly back down at Hadrian, “Punishment is due, would you say?”  _

_ “Yep!” The other boy who smiled so cruelly said, the wind picked up making the boy’s brown hair wave as Hadrian shiver as he pushed his back into the tree, not again. _

_ “Ready? You creepy icky freak!” The blonde boy shouted before the scene flickered back to the kitchen, where Vernon resumed towering over him with Petunia and Dudley watching from the background.  _

_ Cries were pointless, tears were meaningless, Harry cried for Vernon to stop, but as always he cried and cried and the hand spanking him wouldn’t stop until he had welts on his bottom. Nobody ever came. As who would ever care for a worthless-he was slapped again- creepy-the blonde boy cackled as he whacked Hadrian over the head with a stick- broken- he was kicked in the ribs making him cry louder as he lip down on his lip- stupid, ugly, dumb, freaky, grummy freak- why was it always him? Why did everyone hate him? Why was he born, no one ever wanted him. Not even Father and Mother- Vernon cursed about how he wanted to dump him in an orphanage- why couldn’t he just die? Why couldn’t some merciful deity free him?  _

_ “Freak!” someone stepped on his face, and Hadrian shut down. Maybe he would finally meet the man his Father and Mother always talked about, maybe Death would be kinder to him. Maybe he could just die.  _

Roughly breathing, Harry shot upright hands already under his pillow frantically searching for his wand. Panic surged through him as he couldn’t find it as he felt random aches and pains rising from various points around his body. Harry forced himself to breath as he raised his legs to his chest, in and out. Harry reminded himself, he hated this. He hated waking up feeling panic from a dream you can’t even remember fully. All he could remember was Vernon again, something to do with cake, an elderly man that looked like a pure blood, and a little muggle boy with blonde hair. Breathing, breathing, Harry reminded himself. It always felt like he was being strangled by his past, coming to fight him over and over. It always was a helpless feeling, even more so if he couldn’t even fully remember the dream itself. Did Harry even want to remember? Does he really want to wake up and remember himself reliving what Vernon put him through? It was just a dream anyway, it probably didn’t matter much. Nightmares of the past couldn’t affect the future, right? Harry was fine, Harry was safe, Vernon was gone. The elderly pureblood and the muggle boy was probably just something stupid, his brain adding faces to spice up the dream or whatever. The muggle boy could be someone Harry knew when he was younger and just forgot, another bully or something. Creepy icky freak, Harry recalled, making him shake his head to himself. It doesn’t matter now, it doesn’t matter. Harry’s fine. He’s fine, he’s fine. Those people aren’t even alive anymore. They didn’t matter. Vernon didn’t matter, Petunia didn’t matter, Dudley didn’t matter. They couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

“This is a miracle!” A voice said, startling Harry away from his thoughts, he quickly looked up and found the speaker. A small woman stood near the now burned out oil lamp from last night, she smiled over at him, clipboard in hands as she practically had stars in her eyes. Harry felt extremely uncomfortable, “How are you? Are you feeling alright, the last time you woke up you were quite delirious-I should just check your vitals, hold still Mr.” 

Harry watched uneasily as the person ignored him to pull out her wand from the sleeve of her lab coat, she flicked her wand while quietly muttering a spell. A series of small words and numbers popped up in front of the woman and she seemingly started to skim through them, Harry watched in interest at the flickering words and numbers. The numbers and words vanished after a few silent minutes of the woman reading them, she flicked her wand and looked back to him. Her smile had never faded this entire time, making him look away, “Yay, full health-surprising really considering the circumstances, we thought we were going to lose you. The poison took a long while to identify, even then we had thought you were going to be comatose due to magical core destruction, but no. You seem to have quite good luck, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived.” 

Harry stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth felt dry and he coughed slightly. Feeling mild dread, he cautiously couldn’t help but ask the question, “Boy-Who-Lived, Ma’am?”

“Since no one knew your name the media just called you the Boy-Who-Lived. On that point, what’s your name?” The woman went on, grabbing a clipboard off the counter along with a pen. 

“I’m Hadrian Peverell,” Harry said after a moment of pause.

“Peverell,” The woman froze, her smile dropping slightly, “I’m a half-blood, should I get you a pure-blood doctor?”

“No,” Harry sharply answered, “You’re fine.” 

“I just had to check,” The woman said, pursing her lips before smiling slightly, “Peverell, you must have a family somewhere. I know you’ve all been underground for centuries, but do you have any way to contact them?”

“I don’t think they’d be any way to contact them,” Harry quickly said. 

“Oh,” The woman muttered, jotting something down on her clipboard, “Not unexpected, but…” she sighed, giving Harry a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry for the loss.” 

Harry pursed his lips, “Thanks.” 

“What’s your current title? Are you the Heir or have you claimed Lordship yet?” The woman asked as she hovered her pen over something on her clipboard. 

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Harry said after a moment. 

The woman glanced up at him, for a second before slowly nodding, “Alright. Do you feel any pain or delirium, Mr. Peverell?”

“No, I feel perfectly fine,” Harry replied, watching as she wrote something on her clipboard again, “A little hungry tho…”

“That can be tended to in a moment,” The woman said, as she lowered her clipboard to peer at Harry, “Do you want me to explain what happened to you?” 

“Please do,” Harry nodded. 

“You were dosed with a rare poison, that to put in context, is made from a variety of toxins. To get an idea, this potion usually contains redback venom, black Mamba venom, tree sap, or leaves from the manchineel tree, among things like adult Peruvian Vipertooth venom, as you can guess it’s one of the most dangerous poisons out there. It’s usually only used in political assassinations, so it was curious to see it used in you. Symptoms vary depending on what amount of ingredients are used, but you got a multitude of symptoms. For example, brain swelling, kidney failure, high blood pressure, anaphylaxis, cardiac arrest- A lot was going on, and it kept getting worse for a long while, alike to the domino effect. Your magic has been healing you for about two weeks now, a short amount of time for the sheer amount of damage that was caused, but you seem to have nothing wrong. A pure medical miracle of the wizarding world. Amazing really, as medically this is like surviving the killing curse, this is the first recorded case of someone surviving this poison. This will mark the pages of medical textbooks for years to come!” The woman rambled, her tone growing into something more serious until the very end where she ended up back at her cheerful tone. The last lines did make Harry a bit uncomfortable, so much for being anonymous. 

“Ah, I see,” Harry’s voice was forcefully made bland sounding, but that was just to hide the dread he felt. At least they won’t know me for surviving a killing curse too, Harry thought to himself. Or vanquishing Grindelwald, Harry added bitterly. A little chunk of a medical history mystery most likely won’t be as remembered as defeating a Dark Lord. 

“Great,” The woman nodded, “You also have some people who want to see you, if everything goes fine you can then be released.” 

Harry frowned, people wanted to see him. Oh no, “Who all wants to see me?” Harry decidedly asked warily.

“The Intelligence Coordinator and the Minister, The Hogwarts Headmaster and his Deputy Headmaster, and some representatives from Gringotts. They all put in their requests at different points, Gringotts almost as soon as you arrived, the Minister and the Intelligence Coordinator next, and then the Headmaster,” The woman went on, Harry pursed his lips. Given the time period, the Headmaster probably wasn’t Dumbledore and Dumbledore was most likely the Deputy Headmaster. Harry didn’t want to deal with the Headmaster until he had to. It wasn’t like Harry could just get out of seeing Dumbledore if that was how he got to Hogwarts. Welp, time to gather some self control and hope for the best. 

“Can I choose who I see first?” Harry questioned cautiously. 

“Yeah, who do you want to see?” The woman asked, a smile still on her face. 

The Minister, the Goblins, or Dumbledore. Harry thought to himself with mild dread. Harry didn’t even want to see the Minister, the person in charge wasn’t Fudge but he’s had far to maybe bad run-ins with the Ministry to want to see them right off the bat. The Goblins at least wouldn’t try to put him in Azkaban for saying the wrong thing, them being a little rude was something he could deal with. But Dumbledore? No thanks. 

“Can I see Gringotts?” Harry requested, and watched as the Doctor(?) frowned, looking slightly surprised. 

“Goblins first, huh?” She said, “Okay, I can see what I can do, it may take a while but I’ll be back as soon as I can to give the news. I’ll send back a nurse with food.” 

“Water too,” Harry quickly added as the woman put her hand on the doorknob. 

“Got it,” the woman said. Then she was gone. The door clicked shut behind her and Harry could hear her high heels click as she walked quickly down the hall. Being alone he let his expression slip into a frown instead of a neutral look, why would Gringotts’ want to even see him? Did they somehow know what Harry did to their bank in the future and want revenge? Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case. The fact Harry wasn’t just getting a letter requesting Harry to go to Gringotts was odd, Harry hasn’t ever heard of Goblins going to visit people on their own. Harry knows Goblins didn’t like leaving the Goblin Nation, so this was all weird. Did they know Harry was a time traveler somehow? 

Either way, seeing the Minister and the Intelligence Coordinator will probably just be some interrogation, not just basic banking stuff. Harry would prefer to not be interrogated right now, especially without eating yet. Hogwarts was probably here to invite him to their school, kinda weird to have The Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster coming to see him, but whatever. Harry was definitely going back home to Hogwarts, nothing could stop him from that. At the same time, he’d rather not deal with Dumbledore. In fact, he’d rather walk a mile across glass shard covered legos, a terrible fate that was very terrible indeed. 

Boredly, he allowed himself to lay back down on the hospital bed, he had to give off the right appearance for Dumbledore later. Harry wasn’t going to be some golden boy puppet this time around, so he had to make this clear somehow. Harry had to act somewhat normal, polite with an edge. Possible throw in a few pure blood like comments, but it would be next to impossible to get Dumbledore to leave him alone (probably anyway). Harry at least couldn’t act naive or misinformed, as Dumbledore would definitely use that against Harry. Knowing Dumbledore, one of the first things he’ll do is some surface level Occlumency, which Death apparently protects him from now. Dumbledore thinking he knows Occlumency would bring attention to him alone, and Harry wasn’t looking forward to that. If Harry did somehow let Dumbledore into his mind, that would have the same reaction as knowing Occlumency. Either way, Harry was fucked when dealing with Dumbledore’s shit. 

No matter, it didn’t completely put him off. This was the beginning of a new life, Harry may have to dance around a bit, but he can play most games thrown at him (hopefully anyway). Harry Potter unintentionally played his entire life, but the difference between Harry Potter and Hadrian Potter was that one would intentionally play. Harry would this time try to learn how to play this game like any other player, as he’d been the played before and he’d never do that again. Watch out wizarding world, as someone’s going to try to beat you at your own game, and not even Death can stop him this time. Harry won’t fail. 

_

-

_

Hospital food, depending on where you happen to get said food it can appear like total slop or some half-assed glory of the culinary arts. In this case, it seemed to be some twisted combination of the two. The glob looked comparable to Jabbed the Hutt from Star Wars, or some viscous pile of forgotten road kill ground into fine chunks then dumped into some gravy left in a kitchen for ten long, painful, nose bleedingly disgusting years. Harry didn’t even want to touch it, it was like politely asking to get a fatal bout of food poisoning. The smell encroaching off of the mass also made his nose physically hurt, it also made him very tempted to vomit. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t get you anything better,” The voice of the nurse who brought the food flatly said in her bland tone. Harry glanced back up at her, she had flat black glimmering hair pulled up into a messy tall bun, her lips were thin, her skin was a pale shade of white that was contrasted with the natural blush on her cheeks, the most striking part of her was her bright amber-colored eyes, “With the war going on, we are having a mild food shortage. If you wait until you get discharged you can go to a store and see if you can get anything better, Mr. Peverell.”

“Thank you, Mrs..?” Harry trailed off keeping his voice friendly, this caused a small smile to twitch across the Nurse’s lips. 

“I’m Evelyn Prince, pure blood, if you want to know,” The dubbed Evelyn Prince drawled, her words smooth and well rounded. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Prince,” Harry hummed, as his stomach churned with hunger, tempting him to pick up the sad-looking metal spoon that was laid next to the mass he had to eat. Trying to reason with himself over whether he should eat the eye pain mound of food, he grimaced before seizing the metal spoon in his hand. With a painful look on his face, he lowered the spoon and gathered a spoonful of the goop on his spoon. Harry didn’t allow himself to rethink his choices before he rapidly shoved the spoon in his mouth. 

It seemed to dissolve in his mouth, it tasted much like things he was fed Privet Drive in the bad times, basically, it was watery and old. The food had no certain distinct taste either, no real memorable traits besides disgusting. Forcing himself to swallow the first bite of the meal, he was satisfied to know it may smell like a rotting corpse but tasted much like air. With a somber feeling lingering in the silence, Harry quietly at the mush, whatever it was did deserve to be credited with the fact it was quite filling. Soon he had an empty plate and a full stomach, making him set the metal spoon down on the tray with a small clang. Almost instantly Evelyn snatched the tray up and placed it over on one of the counters.

“I don’t know how someone could eat that,” Evelyn quietly said, shaking her head with a mixed expression of disgust and amusement on her face, “If my daughter had that go anywhere near her with the expectation she would eat it, she’d go on a hunger strike until she got real food.”

“Daughter?” Harry asked, feeling the need to humor the conversation as he really had nothing better to do at the moment.

“Yes, her name is Eileen, second-year Slytherin,” A smile played across Evelyn’s old face, “She says she's going to be a potion master when she grows up, and I believe it. She has a talent, and she needs to use it.” 

“If you have something you’re good at, go for it,” Harry agreed mildly, she responded with a firm nod in agreement before going on. 

“I told her that her whole life, I just hope none of those boys convince her otherwise. I would hate for her potential to waste away,” Evelyn murmured, before she hummed, “I suppose she won’t have any trouble, as I heard Tom Riddle is keeping an eye on her, such a nice boy he is,” Evelyn seemingly didn’t notice Harry start having a crisis as she went on, “I just hope he doesn’t think he could have his way with my daughter, I do hope…” 

Ah, yes, Tom Riddle. The Tom Riddle who tears his soul apart. The Tom Riddle that turns into Voldemort. The Voldemort that killed his parents. That Tom Riddle. Harry had known in the back of his mind Tom Riddle would be around, Death did mention it was 1942 after all, but it just hadn’t clicked until now that Riddle was also at Hogwarts. Now, this is great, Harry sarcastically thought to himself. With my luck, the snake face will take interest in me and I’ll have baby Voldemort and Dumbledore on my tail. At that moment another thing clicked into place, Eileen Prince. The name was entirely familiar, and that was for being Severus Snape’s mother. Maybe I didn’t think this through enough, Harry thought to himself as he decided to zone back into what Evelyn was talking about as a distraction. 

“...I guess Riddle’s not a muggle, but from what I’ve gathered his blood status is not pure blood. From what I’ve heard, he’s also not pro-muggle so that is very good. But still, that’s my daughter, who had ambitions and dreams… maybe if they do become a couple, he can accept a wife to work out of the home. Riddle is still a mud blood, an orphan one at that too,” Evelyn went on more, and Harry started to zone out away from her again, but he still said ah and yeah at certain points. Harry had no idea why she was rambling to him about this, was this some odd ulterior motive that was causing Evelyn to ramble to Harry? Or was this something completely else?

“...well, I’ve talked enough, so you seem young enough to go to Hogwarts, are you enrolled?” Evelyn asked, and Harry understood or possibly understood. Evelyn wanted to loll Harry into trusting her by revealing things about herself, right? The trivial and pointless information was just to make Harry comfortable… or Harry was just looking into this too much. 

“I’ve been homeschooled up to this point, but I think I’m going to enroll in Hogwarts this year,” Harry nodded, a slight smile forming on his lips. 

“Hogwarts is much better than homeschooling, I should know. If you are going to Hogwarts, be mindful that you have missed the first month of school. I take it you are smart, being you are a Peverell, so that shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Evelyn said with a pause, Harry was about to say an awkward thank you but she went on, “It would be best to go now, as they are talking about permanently pulling Dark Arts from the curriculum. Shame really, Defense was always fun but learning dark theory and learning offensive spells was always fun. This year will apparently be quite interesting, as the Defense Teacher is having some very hands-on lessons this year. Apparently, they are bringing in both a dementor and a boggart. Very fine lessons to teach students, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, feeling uneasy by the very mention of Dementors and Boggarts (more so Dementors), “Sounds like two engaging classes.” 

“Much so, With Merriwether about to retire, she’s going to be having some of her most interesting lessons of all her years. Rumor is she’s requested the Ministry allows the Unforgivables to be demonstrated in class, to be young again,” Evelyn mused with a small sigh, “She’s also been talking about dueling with a hands-on obstacle course as her final exam, I would have loved to have her when she was like this. When I went to school she was so strict she wouldn’t ever let you do anything fun.”

“Dueling sounds like something to look forward to,” Harry remarked, feeling slightly excited at the prospect of it. 

“Dueling was my favorite class next to potions,” Evelyn said in an agreeing tone. The conversation lolled a moment, before she spoke again, “What house do you expect to be sorted into?” 

“I dunno yet,” Harry shrugged, looking away from Evelyn as he pursed his lips. 

“Hm,” Evelyn acknowledged, “I was Hufflepuff, and my house was really nice and all. The Ravenclaws are stuck up, but okay. Gryffindors are usually all arrogant and brave, if you’re any sort of Dark Wizard you shouldn’t even think about going to Gryffindor. My husband was in Slytherin, he says the inner workings of the house itself is different from how I saw them in school,” Evelyn scowled, “I just saw Slytherins just like all the Gryffindors, arrogant all while thinking they were better because of their cunningness. Apparently, they have-” 

A stern knock sounded on the door, cutting off whatever Evelyn was saying. Evelyn glanced between Harry and the door, before Harry firmly said, “Come in.” 

The unnamed female doctor from before hobbled in, looking visibly bothered as two Gringott Goblins followed behind her. Both the Goblins looked irritated and miffed as they each flared at the Doctor. The older looking goblin with a long swooping nose and similarly swooping ears quickly spoke as soon as he stepped through the door, “Leave us,” he snapped. 

“That’s strictly up to the patient,” The doctor glared, her eyes narrowed and her voice sounding much colder than when she talked to Harry. Both goblins glared back, the first goblin opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by the second one. 

“Mrs. we are here on official Goblin Nation and Gringotts Bank business, this is an important matter and I would heavily advise you to leave,” The second spoke up, his voice was much softer than every goblin Harry has ever heard, almost having a childlike or teenage quality to it. The goblin did look young, with curly gray hair that went down to their chin, light brown eyes, and a slightly smaller stature than the first older goblin. The only quality of the goblin that seemed older was a grizzly looking scar that ran down the side of his face, from the mid-forehead, down his cheek and ending all the way down at his chin. 

The atmosphere was tense as the two goblins stared down the Doctor, Harry felt as if a fight could break out any minute. 

“Can you both leave, please?” Harry politely asked while he glanced between Evelyn and the Doctor. Evelyn nodded quickly before she grabbed the tray Harry had his food on, and the doctor stared at him for a moment, before she left the room not looking very pleased. Evelyn followed after her, closing the door quietly behind her. 

“Hadrian Peverell, we have much to discuss with you, but first we require you to take a blood test,” The younger scarred hoblin stated, stepping forward while the elder goblin stood near the door, watching with a tense expression on his face. 

“Okay,” Harry was quick to agree, watching as the younger goblin proceeded to pull a sheet of parchment paper and a dagger from behind their back. Harry blinked in slight surprise as the younger goblin offered the two items over to Harry, who quickly shook of his surprise and took the tools. Holding the dagger awkwardly, he placed the parchment on the bed.

“My name is Alkaid and my guard by the door is Bootur. We are here to prove a title you have recently claimed and confirm you are the real Hadrian Peverell,” The goblin, Alkaid, said as he watched Harry hold the dagger, “Put three drops of blood on the parchment if you will.” 

“Right,” Harry murmured as he quickly put the blade to the side of his palm and did a small cut. Holding his hand over the parchment, a drop of blood dribbled off his hand, followed by another, and then Harry clenched his fist causing another to fall down to the paper. The paper was quick to absorb the blood into the paper, writing quickly started to appear as Alkaid cautiously reached forward and grabbed the parchment, watching Harry closely while doing so. After a moment the paper seemingly finished as Alkaid quietly read the paper. After a minute or two of uncomfortable silence, Alkaid nodded and cleared his throat before he spoke, “Yes, you do appear to be the Hadrian Peverell, and you are indeed the Master of Death. Do you wish to read your results before we begin?” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, wondering how he would be registered as the Master of Death. (How exactly do Gringott records work? How do so many things just get registered in their systems? How does their magic work?) Alkaid handed him the parchment, as Harry cleared his thought and began readings. 

_ Name: Hadrian Peverell  _

_ Borndate: June 5th, 1927 _

_ Birth location: Rauwerderhem, Netherlands  _

_ Schooling: Rauwerderhem school district until 1941 _

_ Schooling: Magical Tutors in charge of his Magical Homeschooling until 1941 _

_ Father: Amar Mott Peverell _

_ Birthdate: March 20th, 1812 _

_ Death Date: October 10th, 1941 at 11:41 PM _

_ Death Circumstances: Murder; heart attack via prolonged exposer to Cruciatius Curse _

_ Murderer(s(?)): Unknown, thought to be of the Alliance _

_ Other Children: None _

_ Mother: Ziva Morana Peverell nee Black  _

_ Birthdate: March 21st, 1827 _

_ Death Date: October 11th, 1941 at 1:37AM _

_ Death Circumstances: Murder; puntured lungs from kicked in ribs _

_ Murderer(s(?)): Unknown, thought to be of the Alliance _

_ Other Children: None _

_ Godfather: Kia Kanpa _

_ Birthdate: January 7th, 1889 _

_ Deathdate: October 8th, 1941 at 8:12PM _

_ Death Circumstances: Murder, killing curse _

_ Murderer: Alliance member _

_ Children: Partial custody of Hadrian Peverell  _

_ Godmother: Eliza Smirnov _

_ Birthdate: July 13th, 1878 _

_ Deathdate: December 6th, 1937 at 3:41AM _

_ Death Circumstances: Sickness; polio _

_ Children: Chara Smirnov (Deceased, Spanish Flu 1921) _

_ Lordship(s): _

_ Peverell  _

_ Ravenclaw _

_ Kanpa _

_ Smirnov _

_ Slytherin (By Conquest from Tom M. Riddle, still claimable by Tom M. Riddle) _

_ Gaunt (By Conquest from Tom M. Riddle, still claimable by Tom M. Riddle) _

  
  


_ Heirship(s): _

_ Black (if current Heir, Orion P. Black dies and is chosen by current Lord Black) _

_ Potter (if chosen by current Lord Potter) _

_ Death (if passed down) _

_ Magical Capabilities (Basic Blood Test): _

_ Core: Powerful, Merlin Level or above _

_ Magical Affinity: Dark, capable of Light Magic _

_ Magic Declared Status: Undeclared  _

_ In the process of being Declared? Yes/No?: No _

_ Family Magic(s): _

_ Parselmagic  _

_ The Power of Death (Mastery already achieved)  _

_ Wandless Magics _

_ Wordless Magics _

_ Occlumency (Delayed; but functional) _

_ Legilimency (Delayed) _

_ Magical Training(s): _

_ Legilimency (Weak, delayed) _

_ Occlumency (Advanced, natural talent, previously blocked) _

_ Parselmagics (High leveled, natural talent, untampered) _

_ Advanced Light Magic (High leveled, unnaturally gained) _

_ Rituals (Minor; improvement needed) _

_ Basic Magic Training via Homeschooling in all Major subjects _

_ Magical Blocks/potions/Mental Impairment Charms: _

_ Horcrux (Tom Marvolo Riddle, suppressed) _

_ Magical bounds (50% core block; broke by Death) _

_ Anti-Parselmagic (Cursed upon him by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; broke by Death) _

_ Legilimency delay (Cursed upon him by Ablus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; broke by Death) _

_ Occlumency delay (Cursed upon him by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; broke by Death) _

_ Dark Arts block (Cursed upon him by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; trust Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; trust Gryffindor(s) casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; Distrust Malfoy family casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; hatred towards Slytherin house casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; blind hatred towards Tom Marvolo Riddle casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death) _

_ Compulsion Charm; blind hatred to Dark Arts casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death)  _

_ Compulsion Charm; Love towards Ginerva Weasley potioned by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death)  _

_ Forgetfulness Charm; Multiple occasions casted by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (broke by Death, yet to be recalled without trigger) _

_ Love Potion, dosed by Ginerva Weasley and Molly Weasley nee Prewett  _

_ Anti-Compulsion Charm; Gifted by Death _

_ Anti-Memory Charm; Gifted by Death _

_ “Immortality”; Gifted by Death _

__

  
  


_ Properties owned or granted access to: _

_ Slytherin Manor (South American, Amazon, exact location unknown) _

_ Peverell Cottage (Rauwerderhem, Netherlands) _

_ Peverell Manor (England, unknown) _

_ Peverell Vacation home One (Norway, Tromso) _

_ Peverell Vacation Home Two (America, Alaska, unknown) _

_ Peverell hideaway (Mount Koya, Japan) _

_ Peverell prints (England, London) _

_ Gaunt shack (England, Little Hangleton) _

_ Ravenclaw retreat (Scotland, unknown) _

_ Ravenclaw gardens (Scotland, unknown) _

_ Ravenclaw archives (Scotland, Orkney) _

_ Ravenclaw manor (England, unknown) _

_ Ravenclaw Astronomy (Chile, Atacama Desert) _

_ Death Manner (Unknown) _

_ Death retreat (Iceland, unknown) _

_ Black Heir vacation home (Australia, unknown) _

_ Potter Manor (England, unknown) _

_ Potter vacation home One (Germany, unknown) _

_ Potter Vacation Home Two (Sweden, unknown) _

_ Kanpa Library (Mount Koya, Japan) _

_ Kanpa Outreach Dark Art Studies Camp (Mount Koya, Japan) _

_ Smirnov Ancestral Home (Russia, Unknown) _

_ Smirnov Animal Reserve (Brazil, Amazon Rainforest Section) _

_ Smirnov Animal Rescue Center (Brazil, Amazon Rainforest Section) _

_ Businesses: _

_ Peverell paper rights (Unused and unclaimed)  _

_ Kanpa Dark Arts Study Camp (In disuse)  _

_ Kanpa Underground Pet Trade (In use by Kai Kanpa Business Partner, (Redacted) _

_ Vaults: _

_ Slytherin (0 galleons, 0 sickles, 0 knuts, 0 books, 0 artifacts) _

_ Peverell (1978267 Galleons, 762901 sickles, 732961 knuts, 161721 books, 77353 artifacts) (Interest of rate of .5% a year)  _

_ Gaunt (0 galleons, 0 sickles, 0 knuts, 0 books, 0 artifacts) _

_ Ravenclaw (5000 galleons, 407 sickles, 78 knuts, 5003 books, 52621 artifacts) _

_ Death (0 galleons, 0 sickles, 0 knuts, 1 book, 9 artifacts) _

_ Potter Heir (509 galleons, 53 sickles, 8 knuts, 0 books, 14 artifacts) _

_ Black Heir (6721 galleons, 782 sickles, 7319171 knuts, 7 books, 820 artifacts) _

_ Kanpa (64632 galleons, 72 sickles, 32872 knuts, 872 books, 126 artifacts) _

_ Smirnov (7891 galleons, 52772 sickles, 990 knuts, 132 books, 1008 artifacts) _

  
  


_ Titles:  _

_ Lord of Ancient and Noble Slytherin (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Lord of Most Ancient and Noble Peverell (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Lord of Ancient, Noble, Sacred Gaunt (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Lord of Ancient and Noble Ravenclaw (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Lord of Ancient and Dark Kanpa (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Lord of the Rising Smirnov (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Heir of Ancient, Noble, Scared, Feared Death (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Heir of Ancient, Noble Black (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Heir of Ancient, Noble Potter (UNCLAIMED!) _

_ Master of Death (Claimed) _

_ Boy-Who-Lived (Granted) _

_ Creature blood: _

_ Naga (.5% of inheritance)  _

_ Veela (.7% chance of inheritance) _

_ Phoenix Kin (1.5% chance of inheritance) _

“May I keep this paper?” Harry quietly asked, wanting to critically look over and plan with it as a reference. Plus, there are many things he would like to firmly explore and think over, such as the former compulsion charms set by Dumbledore and the memory charm that apparently still held repressed memories to be ‘triggered’. 

“No,” Alkaid firmly said, an almost hesitant look on his face, “These papers rarely leave the halls of Gringotts, it’d be unorthodox to have them floating around.”

Harry guessed that was understandable, but was overall very disappointing news. Handing the parchment and dagger back to Alkaid he went on to question, “What were the other things you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Most importantly, the goblin nations would like to offer you its friendship. I would see this as most beneficial for goblins and you alike,” Alkaid said, his tone extremely serious. Harry pursed his lips making Alkaid go on, “The Goblin Nation may not be as strong as it once was,” Bootur snorted from his spot by the door, “but we still have much of our capabilities that you can gain from, including our somewhat infamous information line.”  
“What would you want from me?” Harry carefully asked, watching as a glint of determination entered Alkaid’s eyes. 

“Help to gain back our former strength,” Alkaid answered seriously, “Death Master, not to be rude but I must explain what has been taken from us, as I’m not wanting a war, this is about rights. Goblins are not allowed to own property, inside and out the wizarding world, we may not open any regular business out in the regular world, we are heavily suggested to never leave our banks, we can’t rent housing, we may not own a wand of any sort, we can’t vote, and everything we take in or out is monitored and regulated. This is just some of many things we are unable to do in today’s society, we just want equality at this point.” 

“I can agree with that,” Harry nodded, making Alkaid stare at him for a moment, “I see nothing wrong with what you want, I mean, everyone should have equal rights and just because you’re a goblin doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be allowed to own a wand, vote, or have a business.” 

“Great,” Alkaid murmured thoughtfully with a nod, “Do you want our friendship?” 

“Yes,” Harry nodded. 

“And so you have the Goblin Nations friendship,” Alkaid grinned showing all of his razor-sharp teeth, it wasn’t so much as a sinister and bloodthirsty grin as Harry has seen many times before, but more so the friendliest expression Harry as ever seen on a goblin’s face. It still made a shiver go up his spine. Alkaid twirled the dagger Harry previously had, a calculating expression flickering across his face before he sharply grinned, a much more familiar expression, “You may keep this dagger as a symbol of our friendship, stain this dagger with the enemies fell by you.”  
Harry was given the dagger back, he held it somewhat awkwardly as Alkaid still smiled sharply at him, “Thank you,” Harry sincerely said as he set the dagger in his lap. 

“Now, the last thing we came here for, was the question of when you will claim your lordships?” Alkaid asked him, a serious expression yet again on his face, “The process must be done at one of our banking locations, and we would like an expected time,” Alkaid paused, “Would that be maybe possible at the current moment?”

“Not today,” Harry apologetically said, “The Minister, the Intelligence Coordinator, and some people from Hogwarts want to see me.”  
“I see,” Alkaid murmured with a nod, “I would guess you cannot guarantee a date in the near future, then.”

“I would say so,” Harry replied. 

“Ah,” Alkaid murmured, “I can only wish you to owl me before you visit the bank. Now, we should go back to our realm, and please keep in mind, you seek important intelligence that would benefit you, or have some concerns, or would simply like to visit, address me, and not just Gringotts. As the King, I am busy for most of my days, but my door will always be open for almost any conversation you should seek.” 

Harry didn’t have much time to answer other than a nod as the two goblins vanished out of the door in a quick, clean, orderly fashion. That left Harry processing what was said before being stumped with the fact he met the King of the Goblin Nation. The King of the said Goblin Nations which he was granted friendship by directly, also basically invited him to drop by and hang out over tea. This day keeps getting better and better, Harry sarcastically thought to himself as he heard footsteps coming to the door again. In a split second of thought, he glanced down to the dagger he held before stuffing it under the hospital pillow. 

A second later the doctor from this morning stepped back in, but unfortunately without Evelyn Prince, that fact disappointed Harry slightly. Harry found he actually liked Evelyn over this Doctor. Even if Evelyn was trying to earn his trust for unknown reasons, she seemed nice. She also was a Hufflepuff, so Harry doubted that. 

“Those goblins didn’t do any funny business, did they?” The doctor asked, looking back to the door and scowling, “You know how their kind are, obsessed with themselves and their own greed.”

“No, they were quite fine, actually Mrs.,” Harry coldly replied, not liking her tone nor reference to the goblins. 

“Mabey,” the doctor offhandedly said before going on, “The Minister and the Intelligence Coordinator are on their way, they heard of your awakening and insisted on speaking to you,” Mabey informed him before turning her back to harry as she hovered over to the door, her hand ghosting over the door frame before she spoke again, “Would you want me to get someone to contact the people from Hogwarts after the Minister leaves?”

“Yes, thank you,” With that last answer Doctor Mabey left shutting the door behind her, leaving Harry alone in a boring hospital room, with his first worldly possession in this time, a goblin dagger. Taking the dagger out from under the pillow, he started to examine the blade with interest. The dagger had symbols down its blade in a language Harry couldn’t read in the slightest, the blade had a wicked curve that had sharper jagged edges closer to the handle, with the handle itself having a bright gleaming crossguard, one of the crossguards had a secondary spark spike that was clearly made to make a second impale of the victim. On the grip of the handle, rather than being some standard cloth, it was decorated with scales, which Harry would guess was dragon scales. Harry found the dagger really pretty, he wanted to use it on something or another, but at the same time, he wanted to preserve and hide it away forever. 

After a few moments, Harry was running his fingers softly over the etched symbols on the blade. They were sharply carved, and the shapes of the symbols felt curious under his finger tips. Very curious. Harry wondered what they meant, they had to have meaning. Some sort of meaning. With a small smile, Harry wondered where he’d be tonight. Where he’d be after he was released from this hospital, would be back at Hogwarts? Back in the warm dorms of Gryffindor, wait no. Not the Gryffindor dorms (never again), maybe Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw sounds nice, and Death did give him a Lordship claim over the house, so which maybe could be a leg up. Hufflepuff could also do nice, it should be more peaceful than going to any other house. 

Harry would be there soon, but with his luck, Dumbledore will get all up in his business. Like the Diagon Alley could be ruined by Dumbledore deciding to tag along with him, making it impossible for Harry to go about his business in secret-or even in peace. Hell, maybe if Harry gets the chance, he should check out Knockturn Alley and see what it’s really all about. Harry has never exactly gone to Knockturn Alley with a clear mind, and even more so able to actually explore. Other than Burgin and Burkes, Harry hasn’t really been anywhere else. Harry has heard whispers of other dark shops, like something about a want shop with better wand options. Harry assumes by better wand options they mean wand with dark Magical cores, with are most likely less than legal. Even with the Elder Wand not being out of reach for him, Dumbledore will already be breathing down his neck, and just having the Elder Wand wouldn’t be a good look. 

It will be interesting to see how Dumbledore reacts to him being a Peverell, after all, he was obsessed with Peverell’s and the Deathly Hallows, and he could still be in that obsession phase. It should be interesting, annoying but interesting. Probably not entertaining or anything, as this was Dumbledore. Dumbledore always made things difficult, and Harry doubted he really wanted to just go toe to toe with him. Harry flipped the dagger in his hand before half-heartedly putting it under his pillow, this was his chance. A chance he didn’t wanna fuck up by being overconfident. As if anyone can fuck up his plans, it would be Dumbledore. 

A sharp knock on the door sounded, Harry didn’t even have time to holler a ‘come in’ before the door was shoved open by a cocky looking man with a hard hairline, with a square jaw and a jaunty tailored suit with sharp edges. Harry fought the urge to narrow his eyes at the man, he just didn’t like him. Whatever it was about this man, whether it being the smirk sent at him right now to the red tie he was wearing was instantly detestable to Harry. For some reason, he just seemed sleazy to Harry. The man started to approach Harry and he hoped this was the Minister or the Intelligence Coordinator. Harry hoped this was just some random man who got lost and found himself in his room.

“Hello! Names Jackson, Jackson Selwyn,” He reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand, giving a firm handshake, he let go quickly before turning abruptly away from Harry as he went on, “I’m the Intelligence Coordinator,” Oh no, “And you must be the luckiest man around, Boy-Who-Lived, huh? What a jest indeed,” Please don’t tell me I have to deal with this man, Harry pleaded to no one as Selwyn turned to face Harry again, now standing at the side of a man who was giving him an annoyed look, “What a wonderful day to see you awake and aware, horrible if that wasn’t the case, am I right?” Selwyn laughed, Harry and the other man stared, “We were all ‘fraid that the poison.’ 

“That’s enough, Selwyn,” said the other man in an exasperated tone, the person who Harry assumed to be the Minister of Magic had a round face, round brown eyes, and a straight fluffy brown mane of hair pulled into a high ponytail. Selwyn had a flashing glint of anger on his face for a mere second before it was gone, “Greetings, Hadrian Peverell, correct?” Harry nodded silently, “We have much to discuss, my name is Hectorious Longbottom, and you must know why we are here.”

“About what happened to me,” Harry suggested, his voice neutral as he looked at the Longbottom. As much as he knew, Longbottom’s were a strongly light family even at this point, he could even see traces of Neville in this man. Only small traces, the slight roundness, the certain brown hues in his eyes, and the thickness of the eyebrows. Other than that, this was a complete stranger. 

“Yes, now are you open to answering a few questions?” Longbottom asked, peering away from Harry and around Harry’s hospital room, looking for a spare chair only to be met with raw disappointment.

“Yes, Sir,” Harry replied, looking between the two, noting the enlargement of the grin on Selwyn’s face. Oh no. 

“Take the floor, Selwyn,” Longbottom said mildly, his eye twitching as Selwyn darted to take a stand between the two, in a position where he could very obviously see both Harry and Longbottom’s expressions. 

“Ah, what a lad indeed, now just for confirmation, your name is Hadrian Peverell, right?” Selwyn asked, his head moving to the side slightly with that smirk. Harry didn’t like this at all. The false grin reminded him so much of Umbridge.

“Yes,” Harry answered. 

“How grand and very pure indeed!” Harry stared blankly, “Now is it or is it not true that you were captured and brought to a stronghold?” Selwyn asked. 

“True,” Harry said in an unimpressed tone, these were the questions being asked? Really?

“Great, now are you of the Alliance?” Selwyn asked, making Longbottom scowl. 

“No,” Harry said. 

“So, just to check, you are not one of Grindelwald’s men, nor aligned with his forces?” Selwyn repeated. 

“I am not,” Harry firmly said. 

“Noted, do you have any reasons why Grindelwald would want you personally?” Selwyn asked. 

“He wanted family heirlooms I was rumored to be in possession of,” Harry truthfully said. 

“What did he want from you?” Selwyn asked. 

“Not sure, as I don’t have them,” Harry’s first true lie in this conversation, something he hoped would go unnoticed.

“Any hints to what they could be?” Selwyn raised a brow, smile not wavering in the slightest, with no outward signs he knew Harry lied. 

“He called them the Hallows,” Harry replied, forcing his voice to tremble slightly. 

“Hallows?” Longbottom jumped in the conversation, speaking in a cautious tone and a frown, “Selwyn, do you know what ‘Hallows’ Grindelwald could have wanted?” 

“Maybe he expected out good sir to know where a sacred, ancient, wizarding weapon of game changing standards is located?” Selwyn answered swiftly, his gaze never wondering from Harry who fought the urge to fidget. 

“Are there really such things?” Longbottom questioned, a nervousness on his face and tone Harry saw many times with Neville. Harry felt empty and alone for a moment, missing Neville who he wasn’t even as close to as Ron or Hermione, but he was always there.

“Rumors and cautionary tales,” ominously whispered Selwyn, smiling sharply at Harry, making him feel even more uneasy, “They have most likely been passed on for generations for reasons, Minister. So terrible they could never be totally forgotten.”

“Like what?” Longbottom asked.

“You remember the Deathly Hallows?” Selwyn returned, his eyes shifting away from Harry to meet Longbottom’s eyes. The two shared a moment, the two staring at one another. That was before Longbottom laughed.

“Resorting to children’s tales?” Longbottom laughed, rolling his eyes, and with a slightly mocking tone resuming in his voice he continued, “I always wonder how you got anywhere in life, utterly ridiculous.”  
Selwyn’s eyes narrowed and his expression darkened, but Longbottom didn’t seem to notice as he chuckled to himself, “Stupid Selwyn, you should just get kicked from office.” 

“I was voted into office, you can’t just kick me out of it, Minister,” Selwyn ground out, Harry noticed some visible signs of anger by his finger curling into fists, and the dipping of his smile that was gaining a sharper aspect. 

“This is absolutely useless, I don’t see why you wanted us here,” Longbottom’s eyes darted back to Harry, “This boy knows nothing but what he’s witnessed, and he didn’t have much time to witness anything. Let’s go, I have better things to do besides trying to incriminate a child,” Longbottom drawled, as Selwyn looked unsatisfied, his eyes shifting back over to Harry as Longbottom started back towards the door

“Minister-”

“Come on,” Longbottom stated, looking sharply at Longbottom who was lingering in place, “We are wasting valuable time, we need to prosecute who needs to be prosecuted. Mr. Peverell has done nothing wrong, he didn’t exactly have time to witness sensitive secrets. Hurry up, or I’ll write an appeal.”

“Noted, but-”

“Don’t make me ask again, or you won’t like the results,” Longbottom threatened as he put his hand on the door knob, sharing a glare with Selwyn before he swung the door open, “Let’s go,” Longbottom said as he stepped out into the hall. 

“Fine,” Selwyn looked defeated, his smile dropping completely. The Minister didn’t bother saying anything to Selwyn as he started walking to the door. The dark brooding look on Selwyn’s face was ignored (or simply not acknowledged) as he strutted out of the door. Selwyn pushed past Longbottom and down the hall. 

“I’m truly sorry about him, I wish you a quick recovery,” Longbottom said to him with a small smile before he disappeared with Selwyn. 

Doctor Mabey walked in the room a second later, she frowned at Harry before asking, “What happened?” 

“Nothing much,” Harry replied, watching as Mabey frowned and peered out of the door and down the hall again. 

“For nothing, both of them look in a very… upset mood,” She frowned. 

“Tell me about it,” Harry complained about a sigh, looking moodily past Mabey and into the hall. That was rather interesting, discourse in the Ministry could be something used. 

“Well,” Mabey began, her eyes landing back on Harry, “I’ll see if I can get Hogwarts here, because of the Hogwarts class they may not be here quickly.”

“That’s fine,” Harry dismissively said, watching as Mabey cautious left, the door clicking behind her. Harry smiled to himself as he was fine waiting a few hours to return to the closest thing he found to be like a home. Even with Tom Riddle stalking the halls again, Harry could maybe play his game. Of course, Riddle could outplay him in certain aspects (he's been doing this longer than Harry), like already being established at Hogwarts. Harry didn’t exactly want to start a death cult, anyway, he just wanted some friends and to be left alone. Even with that Harry will probably end up attracting attention (both unwanted and wanted) to himself, and could get himself some spectators. Harry just hopes he’ll be in a Hogwarts form in a few hours times, maybe chatting with his new housemates.

_

-

_

The game has been set folks, now stay tuned. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Deathly Hallows? Nah those don't exist, pssht, poor childish Selwyn. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm actually adding more depth to the former Hadrian Peverell's background. Yay! 
> 
> Also, I just wanna say, the first part of the poison sequence is weird but I tried to write it off of how my anaphylaxis reactions feel like. I'm deathly allergic to a certain substance and both times I kinda just had to lay down/sit and wait for it to go away. Why didn't I go to the hospital? I'm allergic to an illegal drug so I couldn't just roll up and be like "I smoked drug now I'm dying, help?" I really can't see that going well. I know I almost died the second time-or at least almost lost too much oxygen to sustain consciousness-so I based certain a certain amount of that into the first part of this chapter. The thinking part mostly. As I seriously couldn't think like I normally could and it all was the strangest thing. Anyway, couldn't help but ramble about that, I can't exactly talk about that experience whenever as ~illegal~.


	5. The Start of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapters Forsaken of Me and Nothing Could Ruin Today.   
> So, basically, Dippet, picking classes and Diagon/Knockturn alley.

When Harry heard the door open, he looked up expecting Dumbledore. The elderly man standing in his doorway wasn’t at all Dumbledore, not even in the slightest sense. There wasn’t even a second man in eccentric robes following behind either, that became a given when the man stepped forward into the hospital room, letting the door click shut behind him. The man had faded white hair that trailed down to his shoulders, contrasted with a nicely maintained beard that barely ducked below the chin, with kind inviting brown eyes he looked at Harry through his rounded spectacles that were sitting on the man’s long skinny nose. Armando Dippet, Harry assumed as he sent a charming smile at the man, whose face really didn’t tell much of anything.

“Greetings, sir, you must be from Hogwarts,” Harry greeted, trying to make a good impression by also adding a respectful dip of the head. First impressions didn’t mean everything, but they truly did matter.

“Yes, my name is Armando Dippet,” Dippet’s voice seemed fresh from a grave, with a deep troubling rasp in his tone, “I apologize, but I am rather sick today, Mr. Peverell, and after hearing about your situation I would like to personally invite you to my school,” Harry watched closely as Dippet twisted his hand inside his large draping robe sleeves and pulled out a familiar letter, “I read your transcript, it seems underdeveloped in some areas, but it seems you do have the minimum needed education to be put in with the regular fifth year classes.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered again with a respectful tone, a smile still on his face as he eagerly eyed the Hogwarts letter that Dippet held in his hands. Dippet offered the letter over to him, Harry took it quickly and gazed nostalgically at the familiar red Hogwarts stamp. Just as Harry reached down to open the letter, he was stopped.

“Except that is not the only reason I wanted to speak with you,” Dippet’s solemn voice made Harry pause, slowly looking up Harry met Dippet’s neutral eyes that were staring him down. Ignoring the urge to fidget under the critical eyes, he pursed his lips.

“Something else?” Harry quietly asked.

“With recent events, namely your unfortunate involvement with Grindelwald, Hogwarts would be more than a place for education in your case. I want to grant you protection at Hogwarts, almost like asylum. Over the years, Hogwarts had sent you numerous letters asking if you would like to join our school, but you, or your guardians, always denied on the pretense of you being fine on your own. I believe both of us can agree that has changed,” Dippet paused for a few moments, and Harry felt like he was being examined under a microscope, “I would personally have a clear conscience if I at least offered Hogwarts protections to you, even more so if you accept this offer. A young man like you would be safe in Hogwarts from almost any assassination attempt from Grindelwald’s forces. Our wards are extensive and very powerful, you would be safe, and get a taste of going to a real magical school instead of a muggle one.”

Harry flipped the Hogwarts letter between his fingers, he really didn’t need convincing, he was happily going to Hogwarts, “I accept your invitation to Hogwarts, really sounds like a deal worth taking.”

“Nice to hear,” Dippet’s entire posture softened, his expression less critical and taking up something more relaxed, “I can take you to the school now, you can be sorted at dinner. In the meantime, I would like to discuss which classes you would like to take. As you most likely know, Hogwarts has a very wide variety of classes and extracurricular activities, we try to cater to as many students as possible in the realm of interest and Magics.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Harry gladly chirped, trying to subtly reach under his pillow as he slid off the hospital bed. Dippet seemingly didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge the dagger Harry was now hiding between the folds of his hospital gown. As much as Harry wanted something else to wear, it seems the hospital gown was helping serve some purpose.

“Hold on, m’boy,” Dippet chuckled light-heartedly, but he frowned slightly at Harry. Apparently Dippet noticed Harry’s cringe at being called that cursed line again, he remembered so many times that word came out of Dumbledore’s mouth and it made him sick. That wasn’t even mentioning how growing up the Dursley’s tended to only call him boy or freak. The Headmaster frowned, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry dismissively said, chuckling awkwardly. Dippet continued to frown at him, as Harry switched between glancing at Dippet and the wall behind Dippet. Harry licked his dry lips and decided he needed to change the subject away from this, “Yeah, but uh… is there a way I can get some different clothes on?”

Dippet remained silent for a few moments before he decidedly went with the topic change, “I really was about to ask, have you checked with a nurse to see if they salvaged your clothes? If not, I can transfigure you some temporary clothes. They won’t be of good quality, mind you, but would be enough for the time being.”

“No, I never did check with anyone,” Harry muttered as he glanced past Dippet and to the door. Harry doubted it would take long to get his clothes, as everything in this hospital has been surprisingly quick, so logically it shouldn’t take five hours to get his clothes, “I guess we need to check then.”

“Ah, yes. You must be quite with pleased leaving the hospital, I must assure you Hogwarts is much better than this, much more… colorful would perhaps be the right way to word it,” Dippet suggested taking a few select steps, as he turned around and opened the door, “I get the feeling you must detest hospitals, so I suppose we should get you out of this imprisonment.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry agreed quietly before he slowly walked over to the door, Dippet held open the door for Harry. That made him pause before he awkwardly walked through the door frame and into the hallway. Harry quickly followed after Dippet, still feeling as if he should have been the one opening the door for Dippet. Harry made sure to stay close by to Dippet in the somewhat busy halls, Dippet was admittedly walking slower than Harry would have wished, but that seemed to be because of a limp in one of his legs. Mildly Harry wondered why he didn’t have a cane, but he didn’t dwell on the thought much longer as he heard a whimper in one of the hospital rooms they were passing.

Glancing over out of curiosity, he saw what appeared to be a pureblood man and woman. The woman was hugging the man while crying as the man rubbed her back, Harry pursed his lips before he caught a glance at the hospital bed. Harry saw why they were so upset. A child, no older than six or seven was on the bed, Harry could see the mix of breathing tubes, feeding tubes, and various other medical equipment but what caught his eyes was the hand of the child that was resting on the side of the bed. The kid’s fingertips were blackened gray, looking ashen and flakey. Harry was mixed between disgust and pity as the hand twitched around the side of the bed, showing him the kid was very much alive. Diverting his eyes he watched closer to Dippet, it looked very painful, as the skin appeared to rot. Maybe the child was poisoned somehow, or got some obscure flesh-eating disease? Either way, as Harry walked quietly down the hall he heard the quiet cries of the woman fading in the distance.

Staring down at the tile, he felt a fleeting shiver roll up his spine as he silently hovered near Dippet. Harry wondered what it was, he also hoped it wasn’t contagious. Harry was roomed close to the child, as selfish as it was he hoped he didn’t get whatever that was. The kid, just by the fingertips, looked to be at the brink of death and remembering how Dumbledore’s hand looked after he was afflicted with the Gaunt ring’s curse, it was probably similar to that. So much pain for a child to be in… Harry shuttered to himself. They reached a fork in the hallway, where halls slithered off in two directions. Without hesitation, Dippet started to the left, and Harry thought that Dippet seemed all too familiar to these halls. Harry followed without bothering to question him or pipe up. After a few minutes of Harry silently walking vaguely behind Dippet when purposefully blank thoughts and even blanker emotions, they came to the nurse's station.

Harry watched the unfamiliar nurse at the station write briskly on a piece of parchment paper, a tight look on his face with dim tired eyes with an almost glazed over appearance, topped off with large dark eye bags. The nurse looked like he was at the very end of a long, soul-sucking, sixteen-hour shift. The nurse was writing on the parchment with a pencil, but abruptly the lead inside the pencil broke off. The nurse paused before throwing the pencil down and finally looking up to Harry, “Hello, how may I help you?” The nurse didn’t even bother trying to lace his voice with some fake warm and inviting tone, he sounded irritated and overall done with everyone’s shit.

“My name is Hadrian Peverell, I was wondering if you have the clothes I was admitted in,” Harry used a brisk tone, that perhaps was the wrong call. The nurse’s lips twitched into a slight sneer, that soon died and was replaced with one of the most patronizing looks Harry has ever been graced with. It reminded him of Umbridge when she was attempting to be sickly sweet to him. The nurse spared a glance beside him at Dippet before he slowly reached for his coffee and took a slip. Harry watched as the nurse lowered the coffee cup and turned his dull eyes back over to him.

“Yes, indeed we do. Torn, but wearable I suppose,” The nurse drawled in a distasteful tone. That was when he wondered out of the station with a coffee held loosely in his hands, “Sheppard! Man the station, will you?”

“Covered!” piped up a woman’s voice, Harry glanced over to her finding a rather tall woman with non-aristocratic features scroll up to the desk the previous nurse was sitting at. Harry caught her tired blue eyes for a moment before the first nurse spoke up.

“Follow me, Mr. Peverell,” The nurse duly stated, before taking another large drink of what Harry had previously guessed to be coffee. From the way the nurse had a full body recoil and stumbled in his footing made Harry hesitate with that assumption. The nurse either had some disgusting coffee or strong booze. Harry hoped it was the former, as it had to be malpractice in some way to drink alcohol on the job-even in the 1940s that had to be not allowed. Right?

Harry followed after the nurse, Dippet lingering behind him as the nurse disregarded them entirely as he walked. The nurse didn’t even bother glancing behind him to make sure they were following, and Harry swore the nurse sped up around corners and ducked behind people to make it harder for Harry to see where the nurse was going. Why were so many people utter jackasses these days? After a few halls, the nurse swung open a door and took a few steps in the closet that lacked any and all grace. Harry quickly jogged over and hovered next to the nurse as he was quickly ripping the lid off of a box. With a quiet mumble under his breath, the nurse shoved the box into Harry’s arms with enough force to make him stumble, “Bathroom is next door if you don’t need anything else I need to get back to work.”

“No,” The nurse didn’t bother to stay after that, he harshly passed Harry and was walking back down the hall, “Thank you!” The nurse gave no indication of hearing, as he didn’t slow in pace or turn to say anything, “Nevermind, then…” Harry muttered under his breath as Dippet stepped next to him.

“Sad, really, he had so much potential,” Dippet sighed as he watched the man disappear from sight, “William Carters, top of his classes in Ravenclaw, I wonder what happened to him…”

Harry made a meaningless noise in response before he shifted the box awkwardly under one arm, he walked over to the door next door and with seeing the bathroom sign he wondered how he’d open the door. As it wasn’t like he could wave his dagger around and have Dippet see it-as Dippet probably already noticed but being obvious about it would make it way more likely for him to be called out. Pausing he pursed his lips as he wondered how he was supposed to open the door holding a dagger in one hands and box in the other. He stared at the door knob for a second, fighting the urge to peer over to Dippet. Harry decided to causally press himself against the door and twist his box wielding hand to where he could grasp the knob. While lifting his knee to balance the box, he cracked the door open, bouncing the box on his knee he wrapped his one arm around the box and played it off like he didn’t do anything weird. Harry kicked open the bathroom with his foot and glanced back at Dippet.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Harry drawled, as he mer Dippet’s eyes. Dippet himself had an amused smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes that was much like Dumbledore but entirely different all at once.

“Yes, yes, take as long as you need,” Dippet chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Harry took the final step into the bathroom and pushed the door closed with his elbow, he paused when it shut before he leaned against the cold metal door. Resting himself for a moment, he sighed. Harry should have just set the fucking box down. What the fuck me, Harry thought to himself as he closed his eyes. Why was the weird door thing the first thing Harry thought of? Harry couldn’t answer, as he was asking himself the same question. That was definitely why Dippet was so amused, fuck he was stupid. Dippet was probably thinking how another Hufflepuff or, dare say, Gryffindor was being sorted tonight. Ack. Harry needs a new brain-wait this was technically a new brain for him, wasn’t it?

Sighing to himself, he looked down at the box. Hogwarts. Harry should really feel overjoyed. Just for some insidious feeling going back to Hogwarts felt like some solemnly dark affair. Like he was doing something wrong by going back. Maybe it was the lingering fact that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t be with him, even with their fights and childish times of ignorance, they were there for him. Mostly, anyway. Frankly, having almost anyone from his past life would be comforting. Even Draco Malfoy-maybe not Draco Malfoy. Or Lucius Malfoy. Or Snape. Well, maybe Harry shouldn’t wish about having someone from his past life. If he somehow got his wish it’d probably be Snape and that wouldn’t be fun for anyone involved.

Pushing himself off the door, he set the box on the ground as well as the dagger. With another lonely feeling, he kneeled down and pulled the lid off the box, setting it gently off to the side. On top of the neatly folded clothes was a note that was neatly formed into a triangle. Harry frowned and hesitated a moment before he picked it up, he started to neatly undo the folds until he opened it where he could actually read the note's content.

_In the Death Vault contains some things from your past life I thought you might want. The next time you can safely go to Gringotts, do so. Do not go with Dumbledore or anyone from similar terms. Do not go if there's even the slightest chance of Dumbledore’s presence, you won’t like the result. It won’t be pretty for you or I._

_Also, I suggest you travel to Knockturn Alley for a wand, and, my treat, stop by the Animal Underground as well. I’ll leave you to it, remember that I’m always watching. Oh, and I suppose I should tell you this, don’t fear the dark itself, only for what may linger at its depths._

_-A “Friend”_

Harry felt a thrill of excitement, he could get some of his stuff. He hoped to get his parent’s photo album, and maybe some of the letters from more important people in his life (Sirius, Lupin, Hermione, Ron, The Twins-) Harry also hoped he was getting Marauders Map back, as his Father probably would have never guessed his son would use the map to navigate around 1940s’ Hogwarts, but the map could be maybe his single most important asset. Other than the Hallows themselves, namely the cloak. One of his Weasley sweaters would be something he’d cherish as well, a reminder of the fun times, even if he would rather forget Ginny (and Mrs. Weasley), most of the Weasley’s left something pleasant to be remembered. Even if all of the pleasant things were bittersweet, they were all still things to remember.

Shaking himself away from memories that wanted to hauntingly dance across his mind, he set the note aside and seized the first article of clothing. A plain white dress shirt, with some blood splatter on the sleeves and various places on the torso area. The blood was faded to a slight discoloration, as someone did thankfully gave the mind to wash it, so it wasn’t obvious it was blood, at least. Harry sighed as he hoisted the hospital gown over his head and dropped it uncaringly on the floor. He had blood on literally the only shirt he owned, Harry complained to himself as he put his shirt on and started to quickly button the shirt. With a mild frown, he grabbed the black dress pants and the underwear that went with them. At least blood didn’t show up on black, Harry thought to himself as he put on the fresh pair of underwear and black pants.

In another second he zipped and buttoned up the pants, all that was left in the box was a slick looking pair of black boots that looked to be made of dragon scale, a pair of ankle level socks, and a curious looking satchel. Harry plopped down on the ground with another small sigh. Harry put the socks on moodily, before he, with more care, put on the dragon scale boots. Harry tucked his pants inside the boots and frowned down as he appraised it. Harry thought it looked stupid. Harry quickly pulled his pants outside of the boots, not wanting to look weirder in front of Dippet.

Curiously he grabbed the satchel and opened it. The bag itself only had a smaller coin bag inside, with only that small bag it had tons of space inside. Harry grabbed his dagger again and put the dagger inside the back, followed by the note from a “friend”, and lastly the Hogwarts letter. Somewhat awkwardly Harry picked up the hospital gown and the supplied pair of underwear, he looked towards the trash can and wondered if he should just throw it all away. Harry glanced down to the now empty box and dumped the old hospital clothes in the box and then closed the lid. Slinging his satchel over his shoulder, he then picked up the box. Harry was so ready to leave the hospital. Lifting himself back to his feet with a slight stumble, he decided to make more of an attempt to look good. Good impression, Harry reminded himself as he tucked his shirt into his pants and tried to minimize the wrinkles. Harry had to pick up a book on Pure-blood etiquette and manners, or Harry was going to blow his entire cover. Well, maybe not his entire cover, but it’d be weird if he wasn’t versed in pure-blood tradition and stuff. Maybe the next time he sees Death soon he should ask?

Adjusting the box in his arms, he spared a glance at the mirror. Harry’s eyes were drawn to his hair once more, he looked it over before he started running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to brush it. Harry’s hair decidedly didn’t flatten, but rather fluffed out more. It did look slightly better, Harry thought to himself as he took a few steps closer to the mirror. Harry found the clothes made him look very handsome, it complimented his features and wasn’t extremely uncomfortable. The fabric was soft and looked nice enough to get a pass for being a Pure-Blood or Half-Blood. Harry slowly reached up and attempted to pat down his hair again, it seemed unnecessary as he pulled his hand back. My hair is fine, Harry told himself as he turned away from the mirror and started for the door. Harry opened the door with his free hand, he stepped out in the hall and quickly found Dippet. Dippet was on the other side of the hall and was chatting with a giggling nurse.

“Greetings, Mr. Peverell, welcome back to the world outside the bathroom,” Dippet smiled at him, Harry looked between Dippet and the nurse, “I’m sorry, but I simply must be going, I need to get this young man to Hogwarts, you see.”

“Stop by any time, Headmaster,” The nurse fluttered her eyelashes and Harry wondered what type of conversation he just walked in on.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to remember,” Dippet nodded with a smile as Harry felt even more awkward. Harry looked between the two elderly people and wondered what he should do now. The nurse looked away from Dippet and over to Harry.

“I can take that box off your hands,” The nurse offered, Harry simply threw her a smile and nodded. The nurse marched over and grabbed the box, “Why, I hope we see you again.”

I hope I don’t, Harry thought to himself as he quickly turned away. Harry wasn’t going to deal with what this was, what he thought this was anyway. Old people flirting was not something Harry wanted to sit and watch. No. No. Just no. No thanks. Fuck that.

“Let’s get you to Hogwarts,” Dippet chirped, and Harry smiled complacently as Dippet went on, “We’ll be using floo travel, let’s go.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry quickly agreed, following Dippet’s lead. Harry followed at his side, thoughts buzzing in his mind to distract him from the scene he witnessed. One strain of thoughts wormed and burrowed into his mind, to the point of festering. Death has said to him Hogwarts would be the best for him, but is that necessarily true? Being so close to Dumbledore was especially uneasy for him, even more so if Dumbledore decides to take interest in Harry. Also, no matter if the possibility of dancing around with Riddle was interesting, it made Harry feel uneasy and shifty. Harry just had to remember, the Riddle he was meeting wasn’t exactly the one who murdered his parents, not the one who marked his life with torment. Hell, if Harry remembered the timeline correctly, Tom Riddle of today hadn’t even opened the Chamber of Secrets yet. Riddle may have killed his Grandparents and Father already, so he wasn’t a saint or anything, but he wasn’t the one who killed _Harry's_ parents. Lily and James’s killer was Voldemort, and Voldemort is not necessarily Tom Riddle. Right? Harry at least hoped so. Even the diary incarnation of Riddle had been trapped in the diary for fifty years of total solitary confinement, that probably did make diary Riddle pent up per se? At least Harry hoped. The Riddle he knew in his time just had to be different than the one now, but as much as he wanted to convince himself of the idea of a friendly, simply misguided, non-murderous Tom Riddle, he couldn’t dissuade himself from what capabilities he could potentially possess.

This whole Hogwarts thing was most likely won’t be a friendly tea part with him and Riddle politely existing in each other’s presence. Riddle had to have had his inner circle of Baby Death Eaters, he still had his sly charismatic charm, his murderous urges, his hatred towards Muggles, and at least the very foundations of every view and evil actions of the future. So, realistically, it would most likely be fourth year all over again depending on how much sway Riddle already had. Only instead of the Triwizard Tournament, we have Riddle playing a game of trying to secretly murder Hadrian Peverell. Repeatedly.

Well, life has never exactly been a cake walk, Harry thought to himself, a dark look flashing across his face. At least I have a chance this time, Harry told himself, curling his hands into fists. This is my destiny to control and no one will stop me. No Tom Riddle, no Albus Dumbledore, no ridiculously fat man and his horse of a wife. This was his life, and his alone. No longer a slave, a trademark of the light, or a queen pawn on Dumbledore’s chess board, Harry was immortal with a drive to live a life. Harry will taste life, sip it out of champagne glass, while others are the ones that must taste the dripping likes of misery and mortality. Not Harry this time.

I always wanted to start a hobby and stick with it, Harry suddenly thought to himself as he and Dippet approached what must be the hospital's floo departure room, could always do art or something, I was into that for a while when I was like eleven.

As they passed through the doorway leading to the room containing a series of fireplaces, Harry clearly felt magic zoom over him in a scan, making him shiver slightly at the sudden unfamiliar magic touch. The feeling was gone as soon as it was noticed, Harry quickly followed Dippet up to a fireplace that had a softly burning fire. Staring into the flames, it reminded him painfully of the Gryffindor fireplace of the common room.

Dippet stood off to the side, his eyes glided over Harry and over to the pot holding the floo powder, “Why don’t you proceed first? Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head Master’s Office is our destination.”

“Yes’sir,” Harry nodded, his neutral eyes flickering briefly to the flames in the fireplace before he found the pot again. Alright, nothing too serious. Harry reached towards the pot holding the floo, which seemed to be a decorated self-made clay pot, and he pulled a handful of the glittery green substance. Harry had a small flashback to holding some sand from a sandy creek bed before he threw the floo quickly into the fire listlessly. As expected, the flames grew taller and more profound, flickering into a bright emerald green. Eager to escape the hospital and find himself back in the halls of Hogwarts he made for the flames while he firmly spoke, “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster’s Office.”

Harry held his breath, closed his eyes, kept his elbows close to his body, all while holding the satchel close so it wouldn’t fling away. His main concern was to keep calm and ignore the growing feeling in the pit of his stomach that was rapidly feeling more disturbed. Not as bad as usual, but still enough to make him wish for any means of transportation other than floo. Just as Harry finished that thought, he stumbled out of the floo and into the other side. Quickly he caught his balance before he fell face first, he took steps away from the fireplace before he started to look around the room.

The room was so familiar yet unfamiliar to him. The room itself he stood in was recognizable to him as the room he once stood in from the future, but only by the shape as almost everything else was so vastly different. No Fawkes thrilling for his attention from Dumbledore’s desk, no curious items on the various shelves, no odd trinkets from Dumbledore’s odd past. Just a modest and prim office with many shelves full of books, a nearly blank desk besides a small stack folders, a quill left in an ink bottle, and another stack of blank parchment. Something that caught Harry’s eyes was the shiny name plack which proudly read the name ‘Armando Dippet’.

Behind the desk were the various Headmaster paintings that were silently staring him down, looking him over with various expressions on their faces. They each carried mixed expressions, from caution, to hostility, to intrigue, over to curiosity-then there was one Phineas Black that looked immensely pleased as he was smirking out at Harry. None spoke, the opposite happened. Many walked out of their canvases to elsewhere in a quick hustle, slightly baffled as to why they were leaving, Harry frowned with furrowed brows. Harry glanced back to Phineas Black when he saw movement from the canvas, Phineas was walking out from his canvas but paused. Phineas gave Harry an amused look before he walked from the frame.

The fireplace lit to life again, he turned just in time to see Dippet emerge much more gracefully than Harry himself. Dippet paused for a moment, appearing only slightly concerned with the soot on his robes. Dusting his robes off for a moment, Dippet peacefully walked over to his desk where he rounded it and settled in his chair, “Please, Mr. Peverell, join me.”

Without hesitation, Harry walked over and settled in the chair opposite of Dippet, a rather plain but comfortable chair.

“I would like to discuss with you classes from your test scores supplied by the Ministry,” Harry really hoped former Hadrian didn’t have terribly high grades that would vastly oversell his own capabilities as a student, “You have many choices for what you would like to do. You have already finished a few credits, which as you probably know are Astronomy and Herbology, suppose you wanted to get the more boring classes out of the way?” Dippet mused with a small chuckle, Harry gave a small smile. On second thought, having no Herbology or Astronomy class was great. Harry hoped original Hadrian finished potions too, “The required classes you must take at Hogwarts are Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, or DADA for short. To substitute for the two classes you have already completed, I suggest you choose at least four electives. The ones we host are Healing, History of Magic, Dark Arts, Study of Ruins, Art, Study of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, Foreign Language which is Latin, and Divination. Any of those electives seem interesting?”

More classes than in the future, Harry thought to himself before he spoke up, “You have a Dark Arts class?”

“Of course,” Dippet nodded, “Our Dark Arts class mostly covers theory and more dark leaning counter curses, than actual dark curses, jinxes and hexes.”

Sounds valuable, Harry thought to himself with a small nod, “What about the art class? Is it quill and paper stuff or what?”

“The art class is not Magic infused,” Harry had no idea what that meant but by Dippet’s expression it seems unfortunate for the classes quality, “So it’s more Muggle than Magical, standard painting, sketching, oil pastels, and regular quillwork.”

“Alright,” Harry murmured to himself, “I’ll take Art, Dark Arts, Healing, and…” Harry never had an interest in Arithmancy, Foreign Language sounded difficult, he’ll never again do History of Magic or Divination again, so maybe he should do something for an easy mark? Muggle Studies would be pointless, but a very easy mark. Magical Creatures would still be interesting, but without Hagrid teaching, it would just never be the same. Harry felt a pang, “Muggle Studies, I guess.”

“Fantastic,” Dippet drawled, “Your Hogwarts letter had been updated, I would think you would have access to a vault,” Harry nodded, “I may as well send you on your way to Diagon Alley, in that case. I would suggest for you to take a Professor with you,” Harry frowned, making Dippet pause, “You don’t like that idea, do you?”

“Can we not do that?” Harry asked after a moment of hesitation, “I don’t think I need a Professor, I can be careful in Diagon too.”

“Careful just doesn’t cut it in these types of situations,” Dippet mused, leaning back into his chair, “You of all people should know this, you were on the run from Grindelwald for a long while, weren’t you?”

Harry mutely nodded and told himself he needed to ask Death more about his backstory.

“No matter how careful you are, if things could go wrong they will,” Dippet said seriously, “On your own with no way to hide your identity, you’d be a blatant target if anyone recognized you. You also lack a wand, do you not?”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry frowned to himself wondering how he should go about this, “I can be safe without a Professor, I know all about not attracting attention and pretending I don’t exist.”

Harry ended his sentence in a bitter note.

“You don’t say?” Dippet murmured before he sighed, “I can’t force you to do anything, you aren’t my ward or a ward of the Ministry. You are a student at Hogwarts, so I do have a level of responsibility over you, you understand this, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry averted his gaze down to the desk, “I understand, Sir.”

“That means precautions should be taken,” Dippet told him, “I can compromise with you, as I suppose the safest way would be to send a Professor, but I do have another resource we can employ.”

Harry perked up.

“Just you need to keep in mind your current involvement-or rather Grindelwald’s involvement in you, I’m not going to force you to be babysitted but you must be mindful,” Dippet warned, a certain dark look in his eyes, “If anyone happens to recognize you despite what I will be loaning you, I give you full permission to fight back, just don’t use any illegal curses. The Ministry will be quite understanding, but despite that permission, I trust you’d be wise with your safety and identity.”

“Yes’sir,” The atmosphere in the room felt much colder, a more dark and intimidating feel to it. Dippet’s warnings did not go on deaf ears, as Harry did feel admittedly wary now. Just not wary enough to have a Professor watching him shop, “I know I have to be careful.”

“I suggest you buy a wand first, Mr. Peverell, you never know what can happen,” Dippet then sighed slightly, “I’ll be getting that resource I mentioned,” Dippet stood, Harry, followed him with his gaze as Dippet walked around the desk and started up the massive stairs. Harry pursed his lips at Dippet’s limp being much more pronounced on the stairs, once at the top Dippet disappeared back into the private quarters. Harry’s eyes lingered for a moment before he heard a small ‘ahem.’

Phineas Black was back in his frame, peering at Harry with interest, “Are you one of mine, Little Peverell?”

Harry stared at Phineas, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you one of my descendants?” Phineas drawled.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, Phineas hummed.

“Thought so, you look like a Black,” Phineas commented, “I can’t recall a Black ever marrying a Peverell.”

“My Mother’s name was Ziva if that helps any,” Harry gave his fake Mother’s name, a smirk spread across Phineas’s face.

“Ziva? Ah, I thought she died years ago,” Phineas said, as he eyed Harry with possibly more interest now.

“She’s dead now,” Harry flatly said.

“I would guess so,” Phineas dismissively said, “She’d be about one hundred twenty now.”

“You knew her?” Harry curiously asked Phineas nodded causally.

“My first child’s third-born,” Phineas shrugged, “I died when she was about four.”

Harry was about to reply but Phineas went on.

“At about twenty she ran off, no one never knew why and no one had the _heart_ to disown her I suppose,” Phineas sneered, “At least she ran off with a respectable family, one good thing to come out of her life.”

Harry opened his mouth reflectively to defend his fake mother when Dippet appeared at the top of the stairs. Glancing between Dippet and Phineas, he settled on glaring at Phineas while the man smirked at him again with a wave before disappearing off his canvas again. What a dick. Harry’s mom might be fake, but there was no need to go after her like that. Wait no she wasn’t fake but she wasn’t exactly his mom, well she was but she wasn’t. No one went after his fake parents, Harry decided before he turned his attention to Dippet who was slowly walking down the stairs using the railing. The man had a brown cloak in his hand that wasn’t being used to help him down the stairs. Harry wondered what exactly was wrong with his leg again as Dippet touched down on the office again. Dippet walked around his desk and sat heavily in his chair again.

Dippet offered the cloak across the desk and Harry took the heavyweight cloak with a small frown, “A cloak?” Harry murmured.

“I have it just for cases like you,” Dippet nodded, “It's the same type of cloaks they use in the Witness Protection program the Ministry, anti-location pinging charms, a notice-me-not charm, and the hood of the cloak obscures the entirety of your face to any Wizard or Witch.”

“Huh,” Harry muttered if they had these why couldn’t Dumbledore just give one to me so Voldemort could ping his location and come after him? Another thing to be salty about, as having a cloak like this would have spared him that summer almost entirely spent inside for the very reason of location finder charms and roaming Death Eaters.

“You can probably get going now, m’boy,” Dippet nodded to the fireplace, and Harry again became highly uncomfortable at the use of m’boy. Dippet frowned again, his eyes narrowing slightly and a tactful expression flickering across his face, “You don’t like being called that, do you?”

Harry froze for a moment, before quickly nodding, “Yeah I don’t like it.”

“Would you like me to inform the teachers?” Dippet tone lowered to something vaguely sympathetic, “Some of our teachers favor using the phrase, and if you’d be comfortable I can pin an announcement not to call you that.”

“Please,” Harry nodded.

“Could I have a reason?” Dippet asked Harry stared. What was he supposed to say to that without revealing too much? “You don’t need to go in depth, but the teachers will most likely want a reason for the aversion.”

Harry remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, “Certain… people used to call me that. It just has negative connotations with me in the past.”

Dippet nodded, “I’ll make sure everyone is aware.”

Mutely he nodded in return. The two sat in silence for a few moments.

“You may go now, a professor will be at the Leaky Cauldron at 5:30 to take you back to Hogwarts,” Dippet sighed finally, “Just consider yourself and your surroundings.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, standing from his chair, “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, now,” Dippet confirmed, eyes moving away from Harry and over to one of the stacked folders. Harry turned away from Dippet, he walked over to the fireplace and then put on the cloak. With a small frown, Harry adjusted the front of the cloak, before he threw up the hood and glanced around for the floo container. Harry found it quickly, he reached inside the bland looking container mounted to the mantle of the fireplace and seized a handful of the glittery substance again. Toss it into the flames, he held the satchel and cloak close to his body as he stepped in and spoke, “Diagon Alley.”

As if it was nothing at all, he found himself whizzing away from Hogwarts. Harry let himself be immersed with the feeling and yet again considered how odd floo travel was. Harry could clearly feel himself moving, as that wasn’t something you could simply glaze over, Harry could guess the sensation of floo traveling was similar to that of a roller coaster. Never had he been on a roller coaster, but it was the best comparison he could state. Hermione explained how roller coasters were after she went to an amusement park over the summer, of course, she said it was a lot more extreme with more thrilling turns and flips compared to the floo networks. Harry wondered if the 1940s had amusement parks yet as he came to a halt. Stepping out of the fireplace, he opened his eyes to peer around where he landed, this time being the floo powder station in the heart of the alley. Harry took no time trying to straighten his back and trying to remind himself how Malfoy always walked. Taking a deep breath, Harry walked from the empty station and peaked into the main sidewalk of Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley wasn’t busy today, only a few people walking alone and a few stray couples. Not wanting to procrastinate, he fiddled with the satchel and pulled out his Hogwarts Letter out of his bag. Turning to the supply list, he started to read.

**Uniform**

  * Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)
  * One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear
  * One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)
  * One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)



**Books**

  * Spectacular Stories Of Muggle Gadgets by Maddie Flak
  * Accidents Of Unique Potions by Howard Shay
  * Guide to Proper Potions by Cronious Prince
  * Handbook Of Extreme Charms by Marcos Peya
  * Triumphs Of Transfiguration by Etrix Arius
  * Delightful Wonders of Healing Magic by Ekore Xyz
  * A Divisive Study of Human Anatomy in Art by Pidarin Shaw
  * Defense Against the Dark by John Borum
  * Brilliance of the Dark Arts by Quincy Blacks



**Other** **Equipment**

  * 1 Wand
  * 1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
  * 1 set of glass or crystal phials
  * 1 set of brass scales
  * Students may also bring pet(s) of decent size that are logical and feasible



Great, let’s get this all settled, Harry thought to himself as he put the letter back in his bag. A trunk first, I guess, Harry thought to himself, turning to where he remembered the trunk shop was located. Walking boredly past the shops, he felt a predictably pang as he passes Eeylops Owl Emporium, reminded of something-someone-years in the future and a snowy white owl he loved. Hedwig was a loss that had stung at Harry’s core self, something that was possibly even deeper than loss of Ron and Hermione. Hedwig was there. Always. When Ron and Hermione lacked, Hedwig was there for him instead. Hedwig was there during those lonely summer hells, through the abuse and neglect, she was almost like a Guardian Angel to him. How he missed her, especially now as he could her cooes and croons from the owls inside the Owl Emporium. Picking up his pace he crossed the street to the Magical Instrument shop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he walked past the Magical Instrument shop and to his true target.

In front of the trunk shop, he adjusted his hood before he opened the door and stepped inside. A bell rang almost instantly, Harry paused before he stepped inside. A man was at the counter, he was glancing up at Harry from a newspaper he held in his hands. The man had glasses and a short crooked nose, he had short hair that had no curl and was dressed in very muggle clothing. The man looked him up and down, looking slightly uneasy, “How can I help you, sir?”

“I would like a trunk, do you have any with about three compartments, each password-protected with the main lock also having a password?” Harry drawled as he stepped briskly towards the counter.

“Yes, a trunk like that would cost about four galleons, sir,” The shop man replied, Harry blinked slightly. The price was way cheaper than he expected, way cheaper than in his own time.

“Yes, that’d be great, what would the wait time be?” Harry quired, the man pursed his lips and glanced him up and down again. Up close, he could see a calculating look in his eyes, as if he was trying to examine some important detail that would determine everything.

Finally, he spoke, “Would you like a feather-light charm with that?”

“Yes, thank you,” Harry agreed, watching as the man walked into the backroom to grab the trunk. Swishing his cloak to the side, he reached under it to his satchel and fished inside for the coin bag he saw earlier. Harry drew out the money bag and was quick to grab four galleons. Putting the coins on the counter, he tied the money bag shut again and placed it back in the satchel. The man walked back out carrying the new trunk that looked rather plain looking as it lacked paint. That was expected as all Harry asked for was passwords and compartments. I’ll put some protections on it later, Harry thought to himself as he watched the man scoot it over to the counter.

“Have a good day,” The shop keeper drawled as he slung the trunk on the counter. Harry nodded and took the trunk while the man took his galleons. Harry quickly pulled the trunk to the floor and whisked away, not wanting to remain in the shop longer than he had too. Dragging the trunk along his side, he walked across the street and a few doors down to Flourish and Blott’s. Harry went inside, ignoring the ringing of a bell above the door as he quickly plunged over to the books. Quickly skimming over the spines, he found no book he needed until he reached the fully stocked ‘School Textbooks’ section. It was easy from there, as he collected all nine books he needed and stacked them on his free arms and supported them under his chin. Awkward, yes. Efficient? ...Maybe, maybe not.

With that he carefully walked up to the counter where an older woman waited for him, “Did you find everything alright?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah, no trouble from me,” Harry replied as he carefully set down the books on the counter, the woman turned them so she could read the spines and nodded to herself before saying the total.

“Eight galleons,” The woman requested watching as Harry dug into his satchel and pulled out the money bag. Harry save her eight galleons, and she took them with ease, “Ah, thank you, have a swell day.”

“You too,” Harry replied with a second thought as he clicked open his trunk that was unpassworded yet. Setting the books on the top row of his compartment, he found a note with instructions on how to set the passwords. Not going to set passwords in the middle of a book store, he laid the books out flat and closed the trunk. Quickly Harry left the story, looking around the deserted street he felt slightly bored. At least Madam Malkin’s Robes of All Occasions was next door, Harry thought to himself as he walked down the sidewalk and to the door. Shopping really did feel lonely alone. With no Weasley’s, no Hermione, and no chance interactions with Malfoy. Wow, Harry sighed as he pushed open the door to the clothing store, this wasn’t what I expected. What did he expect?

.

.

.

After an agonizing time of someone who was definitely not Madam Malkin taking long uncomfortable measurements for Harry’s Hogwart robes and regular clothes for non-school hours, he really missed some sort of company at this point. As nice as the person measuring him was, he couldn’t help but not like being measured. With no one rambling with him about Quidditch, or some fascinating book, or laughing at some joke, it really made him even more aware of how alone Harry was. It was really starting to settle on him the fact that, minus his first eleven years of life, he always had a friend or someone to talk to. Even if Draco Malfoy strode up to him and started to sneer about how Harry wasn’t passing as a pure-blood, and that his mimics were useless and he should just go be a mudblood elsewhere, Harry would enjoy that interaction in some malformed positive way. As even if Malfoy was just insulting him, it was a familiar interaction. Hopefully, I’ll make some friends at Hogwarts, Harry tried suggesting to himself but a nihilistic voice reminded him this wasn't his first year and he wasn’t the great Harry Potter everyone wanted to be friends with anymore.

“Right,” drawled the voice of the robe measuring person, “Got the measurements done, be back in an hour for pick up. What name will the order be under?”

Harry paused, he couldn’t just give out his name because Dippet had warned him to be careful, “L, Ma’am.”

The woman’s heels clicked against the floor, “Rightt, now shoo, I don’t need you loitering.”

Harry had no want to loiter in her shop, he had much more exciting things to do. Quickly go to Knockturn Alley for the wand Death suggested and find the Animal Underground Death also mentioned. After Knockturn, Harry wanted to go to Gringotts to collect his things. Without another word, he stood from the stool he was told to sit on for his measurements to be collected. Harry was quick to adjust his cloak (that he refused to take off which majorly annoyed the shop lady), and he grabbed his satchel and trunk. Throwing his satchel over this shoulder, he made a break to the door. No loitering from Harry, none at all. Harry burst from the establishment and took a breath of the free air. 

The air in the robe shop was filled with a dusty smell that tickled his nose, being out in the main drag of Diagon Alley was refreshing. Peering across the street with a pleased look, he saw the dimly lit entrance of Knockturn Alley that was worryingly more busy than Diagon Alley itself. Taking the first few steps towards the threshold of the next adventure, he wondered if he should really go into Knockturn with no wand. What if someone attacked him? Harry thought as he finished walking across the street. As unlikely (likely?) that was, his concerns were valid as he was thinking about walking into Knockturn Alley of all places.

Stopping outside the entrance to Knockturn, he reached up and made sure his hood was firmly in place before he hesitantly took a step forward. Don’t show hesitation, people will take advantage of that, Harry reminded himself as he still lingered at the start of Knockturn. This may be very stupid, Harry thought to himself as he refrained from taking a deep breath as he stepped inside Knockturn.

Knockturn somehow seemed darker than he remembered, with more dark side alleys and dark niches he could see the clear outline of secretive people. Mind your own business, Harry told himself, firmly looking away as he pushed down some anxiety that was building at the pit of his stomach. No one should come after me, they don’t have any idea who I am, I’m just some random guy on the streets. Nothing suspicious or outstanding about me. I should be fine.

Despite comforting reminders, he found himself feeling the eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach, a prickling feeling at the back of his neck, and the uncomfortable squirming in the pit of his stomach. I’m just being paranoid, Harry tried to tell himself, I’m not anything great, I’m nothing at all. That was when he noticed someone veer off and start walking straight towards him. Shit. Fuck shit. No thanks.

With poofy gray hair and a dark look on his face, the man prowled forward. Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach, but he tried not to showcase his uneasy as the man approached. The man grinned fully at him, seemingly satisfied with Harry’s attention, in his grin revealed two large fangs. Oh no, Harry’s gonna die again. A vampire, a vampire had decided to approach Harry in Knockturn alley. Fuck. Why was it always him? Why did everything just hate him?

“What’s a pretty little fellow like you coming down our alley, kiddo?” the man sneered, standing imposingly in front of Harry, blocking him from moving forward.

Why the fuck, what the fuck, how the fuck? “Shopping,” Harr aloofly answered, trying to maintain some sort of poker face.

“I can see you and your fear,” The man laughed, a very Voldemort like laugh, his eyes flashing red. No fuck, fuck no. Harry took a small step back, he was about to be eaten by a vampire. Why was his luck so terrible? The man returned with a step towards him. Harry blankly stared at the vampire, what could he logically do in this situation? He had no wand, no friends to back him up, he was completely alone. Death did mention I had wandless magic, right? Harry frantically reminded himself, I have to try to defend myself, c’mon it really can’t be that hard, right?

“I’ll tell you what, pretty thing, my friends and I are hungry, what about you come join us for dinner?” The man suggested, gesturing to more people emerging behind the man, excitement on every one of their faces. I’m going to die, Harry said, I could have maybe done something about one vampire but thirty of them? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have come down here.

“Sorry, but I’m expected elsewhere,” Harry replied, trying to keep a monotone tone. Harry wondered why every situation he finds himself in is escalated so quickly.

“Can’t be too important, Snack,” excuse me bitch- “Join us for dinner, you won’t be expected to go anywhere else again,” The vampire took another step forward, too close, way too close for comfort, “Why don’t you come easy? It’ll make things less painless for everyone involved.”

I die either way, so fuck no. Harry was about to respond when the vampire lunged at him. Harry quickly jumped back only to trip over his trunk where he ended up landing flat on his back, staring up at the leader of a group of hungry vampires with wide eyes. Launching down at him with not a moment of hesitation, the vampire bared his fangs as he did so. Harry raised his leg before kicking the vampire as hard as he could before rolling away as the vampire wheezed slightly before darting back at him. The man’s arms were outstretched to pin him down and howls and hoots from surrounding vampires exploded in the air as they circled for their meal.

Grappling for his satchel as he tried to roll away again, he was locked in place when the creature grabbed his leg with a vice grip. Panicking, he cocked his leg again and kicked the vampire hard in the face again as he tried to pull away again. Managing to get free and scramble back a few paces, he drew his dagger out from the goblins before holding it threateningly in his hands. Harry’s heart was thundering in his ears, and his breath was shallow as the vampire tilted his head before smiling mockingly.

“You think that’s threatening, boy?” The vampire taunted him, before grinning darkly, “It’ll be a prize for years to come.

Harry panicked further and scooted backward. That was when the vampire was thrown away from him, thrown like a rag doll into a shop on the other side of the street. The vampire that was thrown snarled as the group of vampires formed around Harry parted with a hiss as the figure strolled forward. Harry looked hopefully up at the figure who was draped in a dark cloak, Harry didn’t recognize him until he spoke, “I advise all of you to leave, or your immortality will be cut short.”

Harry stumbled quickly to his feet, clutching the dagger tightly as he rushed over to Death’s side where he remained close. Death didn’t spare him a glance, instead, he was glaring out at the vampires.

“This is a major disrespect,” Death drawled, “You should all be happy I haven’t killed all of you yet.”

“Who the hell do you think you are? Back off, we’re all hungry!” A female vampire spoke up, her red eyes glaring daggers at Death.

Death didn’t speak for a moment, only narrowed his eyes and sneered. Then an aurora of what could only be described as the crisp cold feeling of death emerged. It circled around Harry in a way he dare say could call comforting, fanning across his skin in a brisk show of protectiveness. The gathered vampires immediately stumbled back, eyes wide as a few instantly skittered away like field mice. Death placed a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked out intimidatingly to the gaggle of slack-jawed vampires who remained.

“We apologize, o’Deathly one,” The female vampire from before said, her eyes no longer a red but a copper brown. Many vampires followed that in chorus before bowing or some even kneeling.

“Food will come soon, just hold faith,” Death promised them, removing his hand from Harry, “If you can move to more Muggle populated areas. The Ministry has recently taken notice of your coven and soon will arrive to… exterminate you all. Spread the word to any other dark creatures in the area, hold hope for a better future and for now, please, leave us,” Death paused as vampires started to either profusely thank Death or slowly walk to the nearby shadowed alleys, “And remember, my kin, united you stand but divided you fall. Now is not the time for any rivalries if you all want survival.”

Vampires fully retreated to the shadows, watching them (mostly Death) with a shade of reverence on their faces. A few looked at Harry curiously but didn’t say anything. Death gave a short wave before looking at Harry, “Get your trunk.” 

“Okay,” Harry said as he walked quickly over to where his trunk was and pulled it upright. Grabbing the handle, he dragged it over to Death.

“Don’t mind them,” Death quietly told Harry as the two of them started walking down the street, “They are starving, they usually wouldn’t attack someone like this. With what the Ministry has started doing to them, they almost have no choice at this point,” Death gave a small sigh, “While I’m here, I may as well escort you to the wand shop.”

“Thank you,” Harry breathed while he put his dagger back in his satchel.

“Don’t thank me,” Death drawled in a passive voice, Harry looked up curiously at the odd look that was on Death’s anorexic looking face, “They would usually swarm around you, that’s a given, they can sense your death and it comforts them. Only, with how the wizards have been treating them lately, they are being completely starved. They took that comfort as a promise of a good meal, and the leader acted accordingly. With your attempt at wandless magic, you need practice and learn the appropriate knowledge. I can recommend you some books within the Hogwarts library to get you started.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to act towards Death. He was being nice, he hadn’t snapped at him and he wasn’t acting annoyed. Okay, Harry thought to himself, I can’t say thank you again or that could make him get snippy with me, so I should-

“Shame really how most wizards treat vampires, most are very intelligent and gifted. They are insightful as friends or allies, but detrimental as an enemy. Of course, the wizarding world doesn’t see them that way, all of the abuse they’ve endured for years makes them very wary of wizards, and for very good reasons,” Death paused before darkly going on, “Most wizards would strike them down quickly if their creature status was outed and they were alone without a coven to protect themselves with. The young aren’t typically able to get a basic education, but that’s the same for almost all of non-wizard with magical blood now a day,” Death smoothly spoke, not seemingly caring for Harry’s input, but his words clearly were something meant for Harry to listen to, “Currently, there is only one Magical creature going to Hogwarts. I know of about sixty-three more school-aged Magical creatures that should be going to Hogwarts as well. Disgusting, really.”

“Why aren’t they allowed at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“Multiple reasons are cited. According to your flawed history, it was the number of depraved and animalistic attacks that constantly occurred over the millenniums. That’s mostly a lie, ask any vampire who was alive to see those days. A wizard would attack a vampire, the vampire would fight back, that would be a vicious attack. A vampire would get married, have a child or two, a wizard would come around and kill the vampire’s bonded one and children. Vampire would attack the wizard, oh no another vicious attack,” Death darkly chuckled, “It’s a simple concept, really. The most powerful tool in nature, it controls almost everything with an iron fist that no one can see. You can probably guess what it is yourself,” Death gave a bitter smile, “Fear. Fear of the unknown and probability. Most of which were unfounded, for example, most vampires in more ancient times fed from multiple human friends that were willing to be blood donors, or had a human mate they fed on until the human would be changed to a vampire so they could be together forever. A majority of the vampire population relied on tactics like this, all involving consent of the human, or humans, involved.

“Only a few vampires were senseless feeders, rare and frowned upon by ancient vampires. With that small few brought fear, fear bred hatred, hatred bred propaganda, propaganda took away the majority of the vampire's food supply and created a war. Forced to fight, they did with just as much cruelty and vigor the wizard opposition showed them. A bittersweet thing, as it confirmed the very biases the wizard’s held against vampires…” Death trailed off being trailing off, “At this point, it would be a long road to people accepting peace between creatures and wizardkind. Both the light and dark are both mostly anti-creature, their current leader’s both refuse to acknowledge the humanity in all living intelligent creatures, only point out the cruelty they’ve been forced to commit to survive. If a new leader rose with the intent of equality of everyone as a talking point they fought for, I would imagine they’d get a lot of support from creatures,” Death mused in a purposeful tone, giving Harry a long look. Harry was about to reply when Death looked away and spoke again, “And here we are! Wands of the Peculiar!”

Harry blinked and zoned back into the scenery of Knockturn Alley, he found he and Death stood in front of a pristine shop that proudly sported the name ‘Wands of the Peculiar’. Through a large front window, Harry saw no line of people but no front desk clerk either. Despite the gleaming open sign on the front door. Death seemingly decided he had spoken enough for now, as he silently led Harry to the front door of the shop, where he walked in but let the door slam shut in Harry’s face. Scowling, Harry opened the door and walked inside cautiously. The shop was undecorated and bland, with every nook and cranny cleaned to a nearly frightening degree. Death gestured Harry forward, who looked over hesitantly and decided to walk deeper into the shop. Death pushed him over to the counter and then stepped back, he hovered close to the door as Harry was left alone at the counter.

Peering around, Harry spotted a meek-looking service bell at the blank counter. Easing his hand towards it, he hesitated and pulled his hand back. What if the bell is cursed or something? Harry thought to himself, eyeing the bell with distrust. I doubt Death would allow me to be cursed like that, he did just save me from starved vampires, Harry soothed himself as he quickly reached out and binged the bell. Nothing happened for a moment. Harry then recalled Death literally just slammed a door in his face, so Death may not mind Harry being cursed.

“On the way! Be out in a minute,” a young-sounding voice squeaked from the back. Harry let out a breath of air he forgot he was holding and waiting patiently, ignoring the urge to tape his fingers on the counter. True to the voices' words, about a minute a small form approached the counter with a hum. She had watery blue eyes, and very pale skin, she wore a small red and orange scarf, a white shirt with a speck of red, and a red skirt with small orange dots, “My name is Vimal, how may I help you today?”

“I need a wand, please?” Harry politely asked Vimal responded by smiling widely and showing off her row of razor-sharp teeth.

With a small squeal, she nodded, “Of course! It’s been a long time since I’ve sold one, especially to someone with your stature, it may just be an occasion! Yes, yes, I’ll get some of my darkest wand woods out first for you to test!” With that she scampered off quickly, dancing as he went. Pursing his lips, Harry wondered why a child was running a dark wand shop, it really wasn’t much of his business but a child running a dark wand shop was interesting.

A few seconds later Vimal stumbled back with a box she was having trouble carrying due to her very small size, about the height of the average five year old, “Okie Doki! Don’t touch any of the wand woods, they will kill you painfully,” That was direct, “One will call your magic, and that wood is the only one you can safely touch,” Vimal warned in a bubbly voice, she raised her own wand and did a dramatic flick of her wand that caused several kinds of wand woods to rise out of the box and be placed on the counter.

Harry blinked at the slight pull he felt as he looked over the wands, a questioning look on his face, “What if I pick the wrong one on accident?”

“Death, the instant kind,” Vimal chirped.

“Oh,” Harry murmured, “What kind of woods-”

“Wood kinds! How smart of you to ask, the first kind,” she pointed to the first wood, “Is a hemlock wand, a lesser of most kinds of dark wood kinds I have but still classed as dark. It won’t kill someone just by touching it, or anything cool like that, but it’s still classed as a dark wand wood. The second is yew, yew may be the poster child for dark wands in the light community but it really isn’t that special. Still legal to sell in stores anyway, so blah. The next is snakewood! Salazar Slytherin had a wand made of snakewood, other than that it’s just a typical dark wood not sold in most stores. Next is cerbera odollam, my favorite type, and one of the best dark woods out there. Cerbera odollam is nicknamed the murder or suicide tree, the seeds are a kernel and very toxic if ingested. A valid poisoning method, I would say, but the wand is mostly safe to touch, I guess.

“Strychnos nux-vomica is next in line, similar to the last, common in suicide or homicide poisonings, bla bla blahh not poisonous to the touch so not interesting to me! Milk mangrove is the next, the tree sap is very deadly, the wands I engineer have a magic controlled feature on whether or not to secrete poison. It won’t harm the main user, even if the main user wants it too, how I’ve got the want engineered, it’s highly linked to the feelings or intent of the wand user. You can also milk the poison to poison someone, but unless it's purposeful the effect won’t stick, plus the sap is unless you get someone to ingest the sap. It’ll only cause skin irritation and maybe blindness if made contact to the eyes. Now,” A dark look passed over Vimal’s face, as she cooed at the next wood, “The Namibian Bottle tree, it has the rest of the toxicity of the last, but can secrete a poison I enhanced to kill for efficiently. Used by bushmen in South Africa on arrows to hunt, it's a very poisonous tree. This wood if used in a wand will kill anyone you don’t want touching it, as with the last the poison secretion is linked directly to the user's magic, intent, and emotional state. It will listen if your direct expressed intent is to kill, very useful. Kills by the touch, it would serve the Master of Death nicely.”

Death scoffed and Harry could only guess he was scowling, “How do you know that?”  
“Just do,” Vimal shrugged.

“Okay, I guess,” Harry murmured as he hesitantly started looking over the wands. Five of the seven wands were cold, the only woods Harry got any positive reaction from was the yew wood and the Namibian Bottle Tree. Even then, the yew was faint where the Namibian Bottle tree practically purred for his attention. Harry had no idea how he could have a highly toxic wand at Hogwarts, but that was the wand his magic seemed to like, “The Namibian Bottle tree,” Harry said and Vimal nodded excitedly.

“Amazing, just what I expected. Only a few types of cores bond with the Bottle tree so I’ll get those now,” Vimal smiled again, sharp teeth showing as she waved her wand to put the wand woods back into the box. Vimal shuffled back to the backroom with a hum, Harry hoped having a wand that could literally kill people just by touching it wasn’t too illegal. Somehow, he doubted it was legal.

“How did I get so dark of a wand wood?” Harry asked as he turned to look at Death.

“Your magic liked the wand and the wand liked your magic,” Death shrugged.

“I know that but why,” Harry stressed.

“The Bottle Tree wand was the most magically powerful wand of the bunch, has the capability for light and dark magic, and the main reason the wand is classed as dark is mostly because of the killing people by touching it ordel,” Death drawled.

“St-”

“What did you expect? It took you like six months to learn the Patronus charm and one try to cast the dark Sectumsempra spell,” Death drawled with a small frown, “You were always dark leaning, but you are darker now than then.”

“How does that work?” Harry asked in a somewhat annoyed tone.

“Figure it out,” Death replied boredly.

“Heyo! Vimal back! Stop fighting!” Harry quickly looked back over to the counter and there she was, peering above the counter with a box up on the counter and wand cores laid out already.

“We weren’t fighting,” Harry murmured, as he turned his back to Death who huffed.

“Whatever you say,” Vimal continued to smile. Harry looked down at the warn cores, all were very different than the traditional phoenix feather dragon heartstring, or unicorn hair. One seemed to be ripped directly from an old black cloak, one looked like a heartstring but it clearly wasn’t a dragon’s, another appeared to be a vine freshly ripped from a plant, the next was a fluffy multicolored feather, and the last was a bright red liquid, that had to be blood.

“How did you get that?” Harry jumped slightly, as he glanced and found Death right next to him pointing at the vile of blood with a frown on his face.

“Oohh, a long tale really,” Vimal giggled childishly, eyes shining with amusement, “I couldn’t bore you with the details, Mr. Death.”

“I have never seen a mortal with such an item,” Death flatly said, “I knew you had good cores for the exceptionally dark but isn’t that overkill?”

“If you haven’t seen anyone with those before you just haven’t been paying attention!” Vimal chirped, Death narrowed his eyes at her making her giggle again, “Nothing is overkill when it comes to magic, anyway!”

“What is it?” Harry asked, frowning at the liquid as it started to bubble ominously.

“It’s a concoction of unicorn blood, a feat on its own to possess, but it’s tainted with the blood of my kin,” Death scowled, eyeing Vimal distrustfully, “What is it mixed with?”

“A few things, Dementor blood, dark phoenix essence, and I think something else… maybe blood of a naga?” Vimal mused, a sly smirk on her face.

“How did someone like you make that?” Death asked curiously.

“I thought Death was supposed to be all-knowing?” Vimal cheekily said, a guarded yet secretive look in her eyes.

“I don’t concern myself with mortals,” Death sneered, “Typically, they have no uses to me besides the soul.”

“Ha! Let’s just say I don’t have one of those anymore!” Vimal chirped a sharp smile coming back to her face, “Now, let’s go back to the business, Master of Death! Which two call you?”

“The blood vile thing and the vine,” Harry answer, his reply making a giggle come from Vimal.

“Righty’o! I just need one thing from you,” Vimal hummed, a dark look on her face.

“What would that be-” Vimal lunged forward with a sharp needle in hand, not expecting it Harry didn’t have time to pull his arm away as she stabbed him with the needle. Harry hissed as he pulled his arm away, only Vimal was already done as she peered at the red blood now held in a syringe. Vimal ignored the annoyed glare from Death as she tapped the tip of the syringe against the vile and pushed the blood out into the vile. Harry rubbed his forearm where she stabbed him as the vile flashed as the liquid turned a dark black.

“Ohhh,” Vimal murmured in amazement, ignoring Harry’s glare, “Now that’s cool.”

“I’m not letting you keep any of that,” Death briskly ground out, his voice tight.

“I’m making the best wand I’ll ever make! I’m using all of this, I’m going to make a wand that beats your elder wand!” Death looked visibly offended, “My name may not be remembered, but I will make my mark on this world!” Vimal explained with a slightly crazed look in the little girl’s eyes, “The wand will be done in five minutes.”

With that she collected her materials and went back to her back room, Death glowering at her all the while.

“She’s as good as dead,” Death hissed quietly to himself as he turned away from the desk and walked back to the door. The five minutes passed slowly, the only entertainment being Vimal singing children’s songs in a loud shrill voice. Her singing voice was downright painful to hear, so when she stopped Harry felt a flicker of excitement. Harry was going to get his new wand. New wand, new life, new memories to make. The wand may be poisonous but that doesn’t matter right now. Vimal ran out of the backroom, holding Harry’s new wand in a gloved hand.

“Try it! Try it! Tryyyy it!” Nifty cheered as she forcefully offered Harry’s new wand to him. Harry haphazardly took the wand from Vimal’s hands and grasped it firmly in his hand. The wand felt amazing. As much as his phoenix holly wand served him in his last life, it never felt anything like this. Magic so dark whisked around him, it circled him in a way that spoke to him.

Dark magic welcomed him in a consolatory way as the air was thick with a visible black haze. Harry felt dizzy as he quietly tried to calm the magic down, with his will the dark cloud settled away from visibility but Harry could feel it buzzing in his hand. Amazing. Truly amazing.

“My best wand, absolutely stunning baby,” Vimal murmured but Harry ignored her and turned to Death with a huge grin on his face. Death stared at him incomprehensibly for a second, like he didn’t understand why he was being looked at or what Harry wanted from him. Somewhat awkwardly Death gave him a thumbs up, Harry laughed at the response. Death looked vaguely uncomfortable as he looked away.

A few minutes of Vimal basically chattering excitedly they managed to get her to shut up long enough for Harry to pay for the wand, and they were now back in Knockturn Alley. Death was silent as Harry walked by his side, his new wand in a holster he also bought from Vimal. They were being followed again, but the assumed vampires were keeping a respectable distance, only watching from the shadows and prowling behind them. Like shadows.

“We’ll be going to Animal Underground, they have something I would like for you to consider, two things, actually,” Death said in a dull tone. Harry for some reason was reminded of getting Hedwig from Hagrid all those years ago, the day couldn’t get better.

“What am I going to be looking at?” Harry asked.

“Surprises,” Death replied blandly, “Wait five minutes, Animal Underground is just down the way.”

“Oh,” Harry replied as he looked down the dark alley and found more vampires trickling out to follow them, “Are we gonna talk to them or..?”

“They are merely curious,” Death hummed, “They mean no harm.”

“I know but shouldn’t we, like, talk to them?” Harry awkwardly asked.

Death stopped walking, Harry stopped with him. He peered at Death who turned and looked back at the vampires, “What, you want to be introduced?” Death drawled while looking back at him.

“I mean-”

“I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Death muttered as he looked over to vampires that seemingly were listening in on their conversation, “They deserve to have their little confirmation. The big confirmation should be at Samhain… yes. C’mon, we’ll make this quick, we’re running out of time.”

“Okay,” Harry replied as Death started to gesture at the vampires to come forward. Hesitantly they started to creep forward. The same gaggle from before and more was now present, a few vampire children standing with parents.

“Greetings,” Death intoned, “I’m sure you’ve all sensed or realized this by now but I am Death. I’m not a low leveled Reaper, I am the being of Death,” some whispers circulated, making Death pause as he rolled his eyes, “Yes, I know I’ve been quite elusive in recent years. I should be at Samhain this year if things don’t change. Anyways, this isn’t about me, this is my heir, or nicknamed ‘Master of Death’. He has just recently gained his title if anyone is curious about why I haven’t made a point to announce his existence.”

“Hi,” Harry greeted with a small wave. Some vampires chortled at him while others (mostly the children or other teenaged looking vampires) waved back at him.

“As I mentioned, he has just recently gained his title. He is unversed on most issues or situations, so don’t expect much from him,” Death paused, “Yet.”

“Deathly one, I wish to apologize for my previous action to the little one,” The vampire man who attacked him from earlier stepped up and gave him an apologetic look, “But I also ask for your advice, we didn’t mean to seem so… invasive, but we don’t have the means to properly escape Diagon Alley. We are unable to leave through the Muggle entrances and the floo network is cut off from us in Diagon.”

“I suppose they set up apparition wards to prevent all of you from leaving as well?” Death drawled, earning a nod from the man, “Have you tried bribing Borgin to let you use his floo?”

“We don’t have a safe address to travel too,” The vampire man said, Death was quiet for a moment.

“Try Lily’s Grove KAB, it’s an abandoned manor. The wards recently failed, the manor is near Manchester so you should be able to get some sort of food source for the time being, just remember to not stay too long,” Death told them in an informative tone.

“Thank you,” The vampire man nodded.

“We need to go, be careful,” Death hummed turning away from the vampires and walking back down the street, Harry followed him quickly. No one followed them. After a few minutes Death spoke again, “Now, we need to get you to Animal Underground and back to Diagon before Dumbledore gets here.”

“What? Dumbledore?” Harry questioned with a frown.

“Dippet seems to be in the process of sending Dumbledore to find you, he got worried. We need to make this quick,” Death told him in a mild tone.

“Why does it have to be Dumbledore?” Harry complained.

“Dippet trusts him,” Death flatly said.

“Oh,” Harry mumbles.

“Look,” Death blandly pointed to a building. Animal Underground seemed to be a rather plain shop from the outside, a window was in the front showcasing some exotic parrots and the building itself was made of brick. Death led him into the building, without another moment. Once inside, Harry found Animal Underground was much more than it’s plain exterior. The interior wasn’t minimalistic at all, the entire building was full of various animals. Harry didn’t get much time to look at much as Death was already leading him off into the building, but they had parrots, ferrets, monkeys, tarantulas, a raven, and some snakes. So many cool pets to have.

“Now,” Death quietly said as he was leading Harry down the lines of owls, “I got something you will love, she was someone you knew before. Lost protecting you and all, I decided to reincarnate her in a sense.”

That was when he heard an owl thrill above the chatter of the rest, Harry turned and looked at her. Sharp intelligent yellow eyes peered at him as her snowy white feathers seemed puffed out excitedly. Harry recognized her and weaved around Death, Hedwig thrilled at him again, a heartbreaking sound that tore Harry’s heartstrings as she called for him again. Looking over those happy yellow eyes, she remembered everything. Harry reached through the bars of her cage, with his fingers and she attacked them with light affectionate nibbles, “It’s okay Hedwig, it’s okay now,” Harry quietly murmured making her coo and headbutt her head against his fingers, “Yeah, I missed you so much too. I never forgot you, I never did Hedwig, and I promise I’ll never be stupid again. We’ll never lose each other again alright?”

Hedwig made a low chirp as she once again nuzzled Harry’s hand through the cage, “Good girl, I’m so sorry for what happened. I should have been more careful,” Harry’s voice cracked a little but he ignored that in favor of not looking away from Hedwig as she shook her head and scoldingly bit down on his finger, “I can’t help but feel responsible, I can explain what’s going on later. But right now, we should be going back to Hogwarts soon, it’s all going to be different, but it’s all alright, everything's fine even if it’ll seem strange at first. We just have to deal with the good and bad, right girl?” She cooed again, looking happy as she headbutted his hand again. Harry bit back tears of joy as he gave her a wobbly smile.

“It’s okay,” Harry said to her in a comforting tone, “it’s okay now..”

“Not to interrupt the moment going on here, but I think there’s someone else you might want to meet,” Death spoke up, his voice almost going unnoticed to Harry. Looking up to Death, his attention quickly darted back to Hedwig as she thrilled at him and nibbled his finger.

“Give me a minute Hedwig, I promise this won’t take long,” Harry cooed quietly to her as he removed his fingers from the between the cage bars and picked her up. Taking care not to jostle her, he followed Death to the back recesses of the store. Hedwig seemed content with what was happening, but she was still wanting to be as close to him as possible. Hedwig was on her perch on the side closest to his leg, she was quietly chittering as they walked. Harry’s smile remained as he mimicked the noise back at her.

Death led him to the snake section, where he curiously eyed the various wonders of snakes who whispered to each other while they passed. Death seemed to be talking to a certain snake, after a few more seconds Death gestured Harry over to see the serpent that was completely separate from the others. The snake’s cage was about ten feet away from the other snakes, she was silent as Harry approached, she turned her head between Harry and Death curiously.

“This is an eastern green mamba who had been infused with different magical properties. You can take her on as your other companion if you wish. A little snippet of her personality is that she favors puns a fair amount, and she really doesn’t like people who are too serious too like her jokes. She is very intelligent at understanding human speech, and she would make a great companion,” Death explained dully, looking at the snake in sheltered amusement like he knew some inside joke between the two of them.

“Hey,” Harry hissed to her, she instantly looked at him, in an expression that could be deciphered as surprise, “You heard what he said, how would you like to come with me? I’ll take good care of you and I would love to hear some of your jokes.”

“They never like my jokes,” She hissed quietly, gesturing over to the other snakes, “Are you sure you would like me as a companion? What if you won’t want me anymore?”

“I’m not the type of person to get bored of anyone,” Harry assured the snake with a smile, “I wouldn’t mind the jokes too.”

“Well, when you die, which body part dies last?” She quietly asked, sounding unsure, “The pupils, they dilate.”

Harry chuckled at the joke, the snake gave a small pause before she looked pleased with herself, “That was great, I’ll try to think of a joke really quick… Do you know what melon and broccoli makes? Meloncholy, the saddest vegetable in existence.”

The mamba paused as if evaluating the joke before entering a hissing fit of laughter, that was basically just incomprehensible hisses. The snake calmed, “That’s the first joke someone has ever told me!”

“You liked it?” Harry asked with a smile.

“Loved it,” The mamba answered.

“Dumbledore incoming,” Death drawled, Harry looked up at him in alarm, “He’s in Diagon, he’s not in Knockturn looking for you. Also, your clothes are ready.”

“I have to go,” Harry told the mamba, he watched her shrink down in disappointment, “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Yes, that’s really not a question!” Happy stated the snake, raising herself to try to lift the lid off of her cage.

Dumbledore wasn’t going to ruin his day, Harry would make sure of it. Even if he does bother Harry, this was the day Harry got Hedwig back, got a wand he absolutely loved and got a new companion. Today has been good, and nothing could ruin today. Harry just had to pretend Dumbledore didn’t exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have good news (or something I perceive as good news) I've never really gotten hate comments (one on here once on OG Forsakened) or anything like that before, right, so imagine my shock when I got my first scammer in my DMs on Wattpad. It was the R-Novels people and they basically offered me free FB ads, pay, and sponsorship on their app. Only there is no app and they want to steal people's content. I just found it funny that I got my first scammer before my first big hate comment, as I see both as a milestone in someone's writing career/hobby. It made my day/night to see the scam DM. 
> 
> Was slightly disappointed, but to good to be true rings true in this. Was excited before I looked into it because I thought I found a platform to promote my original book(s) that would be better than A03 or Wattpad. But Nah. Disappointment and amusement combo.


	6. Duel Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore, sorting, and stuff.

After buying the very excited Green mamba and an absolutely thrilled Hedwig from the Animal Underground at the mere price of ten galleons, Death quietly accompanied Harry to the exit of Knockturn Alley. His demeanor was near-silent, much more reserved than any of their shared time in Knockturn Alley up to this point. Harry minded the shadows as they traveled onward, his gazed darting from point to point on the location of Harry's attack, the vampires no longer clung to the shadows and the alley honestly seemed bare without their presence. A part of Harry hoped they would find some source of food, while the other was horrified at himself even humoring that line of thought. Harry couldn't help but give sympathy given he knows what it's like to live on an empty stomach, he just wished there was another way for them to feed other than preying on helpless muggles or traveling wizards.

With the vampire's eyes missing from the alley, everything seemed much more blanker of life. The only real signs of life were sparse scuttling of people around them, and the watchful shop owners eyeing them through shop windows with hooded hungry gazes. Different than the vampire's hunger, but still hunger.

Finally the bright marble of Diagon Alley insight, Harry glanced up to Death who was frowning with a thoughtful look on his face while he fiddled with his sleeves. Harry yet again found this entire situation surreal, the feelings struck him again while he watched Death fidget. Death, an all-powerful sort of being, fidget with his sleeves. The humanity of Death was highlighted boldly with this exploit down Knockturn Alley when Death wasn't about to explode every five seconds seeing past the cold exterior to something warmer was possible. With Death in a good mood, seeing the humanity was possible. Harry was very surprised at just how human he was.

The first time they met, only days ago, Death seemed to be some Godly Angelic-Demonic figure who knew literally everything. Who has known everything, everything that has happened, everything that was to come, was utterly above and detached from it all. A type of apathy to the living after watching the Magical and muggle population for eons, to watching downfalls over and over. Growing boredom and resentment in place of what at one point could have been sympathy. The way Death stared through him as if gazing into his soul when they first met, made Harry originally think resentment and boredom were some of the only things that drew Death forward. Now, Death just seemed to be kind and empathetic to some. Not a soulless bastard who runs on hatred and only hatred, a three-dimensional person who sympathizes with the abused and the ones in need. A fracture of a good person.

Harry silently hoped for Death to continue to treat him like this, with a sort of respect and kindness, not like an annoying fleck of death underneath his fingernails he couldn't quite get rid of. Today, he seemed to actually like Harry, which was very different from their first encounter where he bashed and loathed Harry's very existence the whole exchange. Even if Death secretly hated every moment of time he spent with Harry today, the Master of Death would still find himself feeling grateful for all Death had done for him today.

Being munched on by vampires was not something Harry wanted to actively deal with, even with the chance he would later arise alive, it would still be a horrible experience all the way around. But far more importantly, he had Hedwig again, something that he would always be thankful for. His feathered friend was always someone he would love and trust, she would always be at his side in her owlish ways. Harry's new companion seemed to be someone he could also very much get along with after she and Harry debated they settled on her name being Kiwi. Which was a name Harry very much didn't expect to be the final result of the brainstorming. Kiwi wasn't a bad name, don't get him wrong, but it was simply not what he expected her to name herself. Still, a cute name for a cute little snake-like herself. Mentioning Kiwi, she was currently snuggled up under his sleeve, where she peeked out up near his neck. Kiwi was silent, just as Harry asked her to be until they were alone.

"Here's where I leave you," Death drawled, stopping at the very crux of Knockturn Alley's exit, he glanced passively over to Harry, "I advise you to remember who your dealing with, as one stupid mistake can cause everything to spiral out of your control."

"I know," Harry said, a part of him bristling at the patronizing tone Death was using with him. Well, maybe Death being nice was a one day sorta thing, Harry thought to himself.

"Just see that you know," Death briskly said, a slight edge on his tone. Without another word, he turned and strolled back down Knockturn Alley at a leisurely relaxed pace. Harry watched as he disappeared from sight.

"Dumbledore time," Harry whispered to himself in a moody tone, "Og won't this be an absolutely splendid time?" He sarcastically added under his breath, before officially leaving the threshold of Knockturn and stepping out into Diagon Alley. A slight feeling of dread pooled in his gut, Dumbledore can't touch him, Harry attempted to reassure himself as he walked across the street and back to the robe shop. Harry had no reason to be dreading this so much, but the feeling stuck insidiously in the back of his mind. For some reason, any reassurance he tried to give himself turned into another sour knot of dread and anxiety that buzzed in the recesses of his mind.

As if Hedwig was sensing his anxiety, she thrilled quietly, clearly trying to comfort Harry in the only way she currently could. Harry glanced down at her and she looked back, her large amber eyes staring up at him with an emotion you wouldn't see in an average animal's eyes; concern. Harry felt his hand twitch tighter on the handle of the cage Hedwig rested in, as he felt he or Hedwig couldn't soothe his nerves in the slightest. Coming to the door, he briefly set Hedwig's cage to the marble of Diagon Alley as he shimmied the door open, holding it open with his elbow, he grabbed Hedwig's cage and cautiously stepped inside. Paranoia sparkling hastily in the pit of his stomach, he bumped the door the rest of the way open as he stepped inside. The clerk lady was sitting on a stool behind the counter, her eyes drifting over him for a moment before she spoke.

"Your order is ready, I presume you wish to put it in the trunk?" She asked, uncaringly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry respectfully replied, walking up to the counter where he set Hedwig's cage back down. The lady dipped back into the back room, which was surely made for making and putting together clothes orders.

"There's a man here for you, by the way," She loudly informed Harry from the back room, "He's in the restroom, but he should be out in a moment."

Fuck, no, no, I'm really not okay with this. This is simply not acceptable, he wanted to curl up in a corner and scream. Or bolt out that door and simply never come back. Clearly, Harry may have overestimated himself. Anxiety curling in the back of his head and his stomach doubled, an adrenaline-fueled jitteriness bubbled through his veins, pushing him into a stage of fight or flight. Breathing to himself, he forced himself to calm down, at least enough to act normal as he kneeled down next to his trunk and flicked it open. Preparing the largest drawer for the clothes, he breathed deeply through his nose, how did Hermione say to breathe when he was feeling anxious? Harry scrambled mentally, as he physically looked very calm as he ran his fingers across the bottom of his trunk, in a way that outside watchers would deem curious. Channeling what Hermione said, he forced himself to remember.

"Harry-harry, listen to me. Inhale slowly and deeply through your nose- are you listening? You're okay, just listen to me, relax-it will help, I know it's hard. Hold your breath for three seconds, keep it in there, now exhale through your mouth, yeah, there you go. Keep doing that, we're safe, everything is going to be okay-"

"You must be Mr. Peverell!" A jolly from behind him spoke, making Harry jump what seemed to be five feet in the air. His frazzled mind shrieked at him to pull out his wand, to pull out his wand and show this man just how much Harry hated him. Harry was smarter than that, he just had to act like it. Restraining himself, he made himself breathe while he turned to face who he never wanted to see, the lid of his trunk falling down heavily.

Dumbledore was young. Without his many wrinkles or even his beard, this man was cleanly shaven with a thick curly mop of auburn hair on his head. This man bore no glasses, no crooked nose, and his eyes weren't slightly faded at the edges. No, this man's eyes were sharp, and so obviously that way with not even the slightest attempt to hide it. They were also calculating, looking Harry over in a way that caused his heart rate to spike after seizing still for a moment.

"And you must be a teacher from Hogwarts," Those words swam past his lips in a lifeless way, not at all what Harry wanted to say, but what was purely correct for him to say. A smile played over his lips, just as it should be, this man can't hurt him. This man has nothing against him (yet), no qualms with him, and knows absolutely nothing about him.

"Ah, yes, indeed, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am your transfiguration teacher. I have been sent to make sure you're being safe," The light tone that lacked any familiarity of knowing Harry calmed his mind in an odd way. Making his thoughts clearer and less scrambled, but all still cautious, "We don't want Grindelwald to find you, do we?"

The calm was thrown off for a second, alarm bells rang distantly, something about Dumbledore's tone and the certain gleam in his eyes. Uneasy, but muffling his anxiety with an iron fist and an iconic mask, Harry laughed quietly, "Even if he did, I would be able to fight back this time. No wandless dabble in the wee of the morning fresh out of bed."

"Ha," The sharp aspect of his eyes shined, "Nice to see confidence, but shouldn't you be scared?"

"Probably," Harry shrugged idly, his anxiety draining now that he was in the situation, with no immediate violence being sent upon him. Dumbledore seemed to have it out for him (What did I do this time? Is existing enough for Dumbledore to latch onto him?), just by the saying of certain phrases and the look in his eyes, but Harry kept reminding himself he had something to fear. Harry was armed, and not afraid to test his wand if needed. Evening if raising a wand against this man would probably cause more harm to himself than good, he still had one.

"Indeed," The word was a cold drawl, and Harry was surprised by how unDumbledore like this Dumbledore was acting. The Dumbledore from the future always had this Grandfatherly like persona, this Dumbledore was staying civil, but wasn't bothering to hide his general distaste. Why the distaste even existed was a question that Harry was curious about, but the question would answer itself eventually.

"Peverell! Open your trunk!" The shop witch instructed that was when Harry turned his back to Dumbledore, a twinkle of anxiety returning with his eyes off the man. Harry still tried to act natural as he leaned down and flicked open the lid of his trunk, the clothes which were floating with the aid of a hovering spell, proceeding to plop inside. Surprisingly, they were perfectly organized and weren't unfolded or tousled by the drop. Taping the lid shut and clicking the preinstalled lock shut, he straightened and looked to the shopkeep who stood stilly behind the desk.

"Thank you, sir, for your usage of our store for your clothes buying needs. Have a nice day," She drawled, looking disinterested as her eyes drifted down to a magazine on the counter.

"Your welcome, Ma'am," Harry politely said in return as he seized the handle of his trunk again and picked up Hedwig who cooed quietly, it seemed questionitive but Harry ignored her for the time being. Turning back around to face Dumbledore, he was met with a kind smile and a twinkle that reminded him very much of the Albus Dumbledore Harry knew. Right, Harry thought to himself nervously, maybe this act won't last long.

"Now, let's go, Mr. Peverell," Dumbledore cheerfully said, turning with his professional gray robes flailing behind him, "What all haven't we got yet? Or are we finished here?"

"Uh," Harry hesitantly joined at his side, trying to ignore the discomfort this situation was causing him. Trying to ignore the insatiable urge to just get away from the man who caused him so much pain in life. Loathing rose up, but the urge to keep his head down and wallow in his discomfort was there. Loathing poked and probed at him to get revenge, to bestow his punishment on Dumbledore for the years of ruined life he has had. Suffer, the urge to make Dumbledore suffer. The discomfort wanted to shy away, give no eye contact, and curl in on himself. Boiling under his skin, the two sensations fought for dominance as Harry kept a friendly posture and a smile with great devotion to not give himself away, "I haven't gotten my cauldron, brass scale, or vials."

"An easy final stop! The cauldron shop, then to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore hummed, twinkling down at Harry who wanted nothing more than to look awkwardly away or slap that twinkle off his face, "You must be very excited, and nervous, of course. I remember my first days at Hogwarts, ah, those were simpler days. I still miss the Gryffindor common room at times."

"Yeah, I can't wait to start, Sir," Harry chuckled, trying not to sound like the mix of awkward, discomfort, and hatred he was right now.

"Gryffindor is very inviting, by far the greatest of all houses, known for bravery and justice-" Showing your biases so quickly, Sir? A part of Harry was driven to say, "Of course, that doesn't mean Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff aren't noble houses, their smarts and loyalty aren't to be underestimated."

"Isn't there a fourth house, Professor Dumbledore?" Harry sweetly said, eagerly waiting for the reply. Harry knew what he was trying to do, for some reason Dumbledore wanted him to be placed in Gryffindor again, which was a hard no from him. As much as he missed the dorms, the common room, and most importantly the memories. He wouldn't be able to do his best there, maybe Ravenclaw, Harry thought to himself.

"Ah," Dumbledore once again darkened, but his smiler remained untouched. It was almost unnerving the look on his face, his eyes dark but with an exaggerated friendly smile. Creepy, "You would be right, M'boy-" Fuck you- "Slytherin, a rather dark house. It would be a shame for such a mind to be wasted."

"Why would my talents be wasted in Slytherin?" Harry drawled, observing a small flicker of annoyance, looking at Harry with a sickly sweet expression, Dumbledore laughed.

"Every curious? You must be a Ravenclaw," Dumbledore smiled widely, Harry fought the urge to narrow his eyes. Oh hell no, he wasn't going to go anywhere this wanted him to go. Dumbledore could slowly get chopped up the middle starting at the testicles and up to his head. A death that suited such a man, perhaps, "Slytherin tends to stifle potential. They smother it and snuff it out. They take turns blowing out competitors' candles, you see."

"Yes, I see," Harry really didn't care.

"Now, cauldrons, let's go in," Dumbledore twinkled, gesturing to the door of the cauldron shop.

I need to pay attention more, Harry thought to himself before replying with a slightly brisk, "Yes, Sir."

They both walked inside, and Harry felt tense with resisting the anxiety that clawed inside of him. The shop was just as dark and gloomy as he remembered it, but seemingly twice as dull. It was bare and without little trinkets and curious objects, it was the definition of plain. The shop was only what it needed to be and nothing more. Basic potion supplies and cauldrons. The front desk had a similar gloomy modest man at the front desk, a comfortable looking yet bland suit was what he wore, a simple short faded tangle of brown hair was on his head, he sat sparing them a dull glance.

"What do y'all need?" His voice caught Harry off guard. The accent he carried Harry had heard before on stupid sitcoms about the Southern US that his Aunt for some ungodly reasoned enjoyed watching.

Harry opened his mouth to speak for himself, as he obviously should be able to, but Dumbledore annoyingly spoke in his steed, "We need a cauldron, vials, and a brass scale."

"Oh, rather late for someone to be going to Hogwarts," The man sighed, sounding rather depressed, "Did something happen?"

"Nothing that hasn't been in the papers yet," Dumbledore's voice put on a similarly gloomy tone, but his eyes and a face didn't show true gloominess, but rather just neutralism.

"At least nothing else has happened, right?" The man chuckled sadly, but it sounded more like a wet wheeze.

"Indeed so," Dumbledore solemnly agreed, nodding his head, "This poor dear boy has been through a lot, so could you get what we need out of the back?"

"So sad really, the young shouldn't have to go through this pain," The man looked genuinely sadder, as he turned towards the door leading to the back, "I'll be right back, don't y'all leave now."

Dumbledore and Harry then stood in a tense silence, standing next to each other. Harry felt like he was seconds away from letting himself scowl, while Dumbledore looked causal and pleased. The man running the shop didn't look at all like the future people who would come to own the shop. From what Harry knew about the Cauldron Shop had always been passed down on the family. How odd. The man was quick to return, with his sad droopy eyes, looking Harry over.

"You must be very unfortunate, I'm afraid due to the times I can't give a reduced price as I usually do," The man's lips trembled in a frown, "The cost will be six galloens, and three sickles."

Harry drew seven galleons from his bag and handed them over to the man, who dropped them shakily into a small money bag, where he dug looking for fourteen sickles of change. After a long few seconds that seemed to drag on in a somber way, the man had a handful of sickles that he handed over to Harry who dropped them back in his bag. The man then pushed the cauldron, vials, and brass scale across the counter one by one while Harry awkwardly looked the items over. He wanted to cast a shrinking charm on the items, but he was pretty sure underage magic was illegal even now and right in front Dumbledore seemed to be a bad idea.

"Allow me to cast the shrinking charm," Dumbledore hummed, Harry glanced over to watch the man carelessly flick the wand at the cauldron. Ignoring a slight wave of panic that came at Dumbledore holding a wand. The items shrunk down to the small size of being able to fit comfortably in the palm of your hand.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry smiled politely, at Dumbledore who had his cheerful grin falling slightly. Turning away, Harry seized the cauldron in his hand and dropped it nonchalantly into his bag.

"Yes, no problem, Mr. Peverell," Dumbledore's tone was laced with the slightest bit of irritation. Harry really couldn't see why he would be irritated, for at least by Harry's standards he didn't do anything to the man.

"Are we going to Hogwarts now?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly as he glanced back over to Dumbledore who started to guide them to the door.

"Yes, we will be holding the sorting in the Great Hall. I and Dippet debated sorting you earlier than initially planned, but that may be beneficial in some ways," Dumbledore said without any explanation to what the potential benefits would be as they walked from the shop and back onto the streets. Starting the walk down the streets of Diagon Alley he went on, "We're going to floo back to Hogwarts, you may leave your trunk and personal items in Dippets office. They will be in your dorm after the sorting."

"Good to know, Professor," Harry replied, knowing very well how the sorting process worked as he's experienced it already once. The resorting was probably going to be straight forward, Harry would refuse to go to Gryffindor, and he would heavily suggest Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff so he can keep his head low and plan in peace. Slytherin would bring unwanted drama, and he was firmly done with drama. Harry had more than enough drama as Harry Potter, as Hadrian Peverell, he wanted to live a drama-free life, well, apart from drama he started for himself. Only, Harry firmly knew any drama he started himself, he would win. Harry wouldn't start a fight he couldn't win.

The floo station came back into sight, and Dumbledore started humming a tune that Harry found annoyingly to be vaguely familiar (Where has he heard it before?), but annoying all the same. Maybe, just maybe, if it didn't come out of Dumbledore's throat it would be a lovely upbeat tune to listen to, but whatever. Now that Dumbledore hummed that tune, he now hated it with a burning passion that rivals the burning hellfires of the Christian Hell. They entered the floo station, the irritating tune Dumbledore was humming stopped much to Harry's delight.

"I supposed you should floo first, you remember the address?" Dumbledore suggested.

"Of course I remember the address," Harry curtly said, he glanced over to Dumbledore who looked displeased, "Professor," He added, hoping he didn't sound annoyed, "Can you please shrink down my trunk?"

"Yes, Mr. Peverell, but I recommend letting your owl out and tell them to fly to Hogwarts, as well," Dumbledore's voice sounded cold, but Harry nodded all the same like he didn't notice. Leaving his trunk to be shrunk, he took Hedwig outside the floor station, she cooed knowingly and bit the siding of her cage.

"Alright, Hedwig," Harry murmured quietly to his first friend as he opened the front of her cage, she didn't look pleased as she hopped out and settled on the marble pavement looking up to Harry knowingly, "Yeah, girl, go to Hogwarts. I'll see you tomorrow in the owlery, I promise."

Hedwig flapped her wings hard, rising up in the air and swiftly making her leave, she was gone from sight and Harry knew he would see her tomorrow and the thought was very comforting. Turning and walking back in the station with Hedwig's now-empty cage, Dumbledore held Harry's trunk and was looking at the now-empty cage Harry held. Knowing what to do, he set the cage on the ground and it quickly shrunk. Harry grabbed the cage from the floor and also placed it in his bag, silently he took his trunk from Dumbledore and also placed the trunk in his bag.

Harry then walked up to one of the fireplaces, crimson red flames licked hungrily at the surrounding area of brick, the heat warmed him as he reached into a small dainty pot holding the floor powder. Drawing back a handful, he didn't bother looking as he threw the floo in the fireplace without a second thought. The heat vanished, replaced with a stale mediocre "heat" that the fireplace was letting out now. Shuffling inside and holding his bag firmly to his body, he spoke, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office."

Harry felt himself zap through the network, his stomach yet again feeling unsettled but not exactly sickly as he emerged from the other side. Finding himself in Dippet's office, he stepped away from the fireplace and quickly walked over to where Dippet's desk where the Headmaster sat. Dippet was reading a scroll with a small frown on his face, not yet acknowledging his presence in the room. Harry waited for Dippet's attention to shift, hovering patiently by one of the chairs opposite of Dippet who looked slightly disturbed as he stopped reading the scroll. The scroll was folded intricately, where the now-folded piece of paper was sat down next to a pile of parchment, "Greetings, how was your shopping?"

"Peachy, I got everything I needed," Harry answered, smiling lightly, "Professor Dumbledore shrunk it down for me, it's currently in my bag."

"How nice of him," Dippet commented with a chuckle, "Are you ready for the sorting?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Harry answered averagely, feeling not at all nervous.

"Great! There's a bathroom over there," He gestured to the far corner that wasn't the exit to his office, and sure enough there was a door, "Please, change into your robes, we will then go to the Great Hall. Everyone is aware to be there, so you won't be missing anyone."  
"I can use my wand now that I'm in school, right?" Harry asked after a quiet moment.

"Of course," Dippet answered, nodding in a reaffirming way.

Harry then turned away, walking to the corner of the Headmaster's office the bathroom was situated in. Grasping the doorknob, he ignored the cold sensation it brought. Mentally commenting on how cold the doorknob was, he opened the door and stepping in, expecting an equally cold room. Instead, he was greeted with a room that was surprisingly warm. Harry stepped inside and shut the cold door behind him, locking the door he took out his wand and bag. Setting the shrunken drunk on the ground, he casted the counter spell to the shrinking charm. The magic that weaved out of his wand was like nothing he's ever felt before. Classy and graceful, like a ballet dancer, staggeringly dark like numerous curses he's been exposed to, and immensely powerful. From the sheer power he felt course through him, he nearly dropped his wand but that didn't matter as much compared to the jittery high that hummed and ricocheted through his veins. It made his head feel light, his vision flicker, his body twitchy, and europhoria shoot and pulse in such an amazing way. Then, just as it started, his items were shrunken and the feeling was gone. Leaving him twitchy and jittery for more.

"What the fuck," Harry whispered in utter amazement to himself, staring at his wand in utter amazement. Harry had never felt something so addictingly beautiful before, it was beyond amazing but barely fell short of worship. Trying to get himself to focus on what he needed to do, he shook his head, causing Kiwi's scales to tighten around him slightly. Blinking, he nearly forgot he had Kiwi around his shoulders, as in that moment everything vanished from his mind besides magic itself.

"Hey, Kiwi, you need to get off for a moment," Harry hissed quietly, Kiwi groaned before answering.

"Fine, but put me back, please," Kiwi replied, slithering out of the neck of his shirt, her scales running against him making a tingle go down his spine. Harry ignored it, as he kneeled down to allow her to go on the floor herself. She hissed in content and spoke, "It's hotter in here than I expected, this is great!"

"Glad you think so," Harry chuckled, sounding very odd in a hissy form. He then flicked open his trunk and rifled through to grab his needed clothing, he quickly got dressed without a moment's worth of hesitation. When he was dressed in his Hogwarts robes, he walked towards a mirror above the sink and combed his fingers through his hair, he ruffled his hair in an attempt to look better. Looking down to Kiwi who was looking up at him lazily, he spoke, "Do I look good?"

"Stunning as I've always seen you look," Kiwi replied, her tone sounding sincere.

"Thanks," Harry grinned, trying not to get embarrassed by the compliment. He offered her an arm to help her settled, and she delightedly nosed her way inside his sleeve and started to slither up his arm. Being careful not to squish her, he waited until she reached his upper body and settled around his shoulders. He then put his dirty clothes in his trunk, and grabbed Hedwig's cage, he took his bag and also threw it inside the trunk. Then he proceeded to stow his wand inside his pocket. Harry then closed the trunk and grabbed the handle, pulling it to the door. With no freehand for the door, he set Hedwig's cage down and opened the door. He walked out of the bathroom and back to Dippet's desk to set down his things. Dippet waited by the door and smiled kindly at him.

"Let's go, the Hogwarts halls are confusing to many so stay close," Dippet informed him, as he started to walk down the spiral staircase. Harry followed closely behind and smiled to himself. He knew Hogwarts better than any other, going back fifty years won't disrupt that much. This was practically his kingdom, and going back fifty years won't disrupt that much. This was practically his kingdom, and it would stay that way. No Riddle would get in his way, and besides, how could Riddle actually deal with him? Harry is immortal now, so even straight-up shooting a killing curse at him wouldn't work. Death threats directed at him won't affect him much, and poison did do a number on him but he still recovered from that, he wondered how the Tommy-Boy would deal with that, not able to simply glare at someone and have them scuttle away in terror. That was probably something Riddle hasn't dealt with since the beginning of his Hogwarts Days, Harry would imagine. What will Riddle do? Socially Outcast him? My, my, my! Just thinking of it, Harry may not have all the upper hands, but he definitely had some advantages. Some advantages were better than most that dared to face Riddle in some defiant attempt, but Harry wasn't just someone.

While Harry had a brooding expression on his face, they reached the end of the stairs. The gargoyle slid open to reveal the halls of Hogwarts, with the settling sunlight shining remarkably on the floor. Harry froze mid-step for a mere moment, the thoughts of his challenger faded as he soberly looked around. The last time he saw this place, rubble was everywhere, fires were strung in corners, beasts and Death Eaters having the jolliest of times destroying these halls and the people defending them. Memories flashed in his mind as he felt cripplingly cold and distant at that moment, and the fact he was now alone was highlighted in a bold color. He may have been a king in these halls, but who made that so? He didn't have his advisors, his knights, or his friends by his sides anymore. There was no longer a Hermione to guide his footsteps to make sure he didn't step on a minefield, no longer a Ron to fight alongside him, no longer Nevile, Luna, Fred, and George-they were all gone. Really, the only reason that he was a king, was because he had his friends. Without them, he wasn't a king anymore, was he? As what was a king, without his royal round table. Without friends, and without enemies- he didn't have proper enemies anymore. No Draco Malfoy and his cliche, just Harry. Just Harry alone, friendless, and enemiless. The enemiless title would soon vanish, Harry knew he'd capture Riddle's attention soon, and Harry would purposefully piss him off, and WHAM! Enemy.

Still, he hasn't really been friendless since he's stepped into the magical world. That fact made him feel shaky on his feet, he's always had people in his life since he's truly started this journey. Even in those lonely summers in hell, he had someone to write letters to, someone on his mind as he counted the days until he went back home. Only there wasn't any due date to when he'd see Ron and Hermione now. Only a lonely void with no date, all he had were the memories that he couldn't make more of with Ron and Hermione. Harry knew he'd make enemies long before he really made friends, but even then he wouldn't have Ron and Hermione, he could never get them back.

Harry doubted he'd get another reincarnation thing like with Hedwig, he may be very grateful to have her back, but he was greedy. Harry was hungry for more people he knew and loved, so much time was cut short, so many things that were never said. At the moment, he wanted to hug both of them close, curl up with them, and tell them how much he cared. Only, they have ripped been away from him, Harry could never make up over some stupid fight again, never get drunk and party with Ron, never have quiet thoughtful moments with Hermione, and never again see Ron and Hermione's relationship blossom. He would never have those moments with those people again, only faded memories to reflect on, that wouldn't satisfy anyone.

The only person who he would say was maybe a friend would be Death, and he was more of an acquaintance. Even then, the being seemed to have a different opinion about him day to day. Like today was just weird compared to previous treatments of cold and fiery, trying to violently tell Harry that Death was the one who pulled the string, and how he'd never be used as some puppet or whatever. Harry would take whatever affection he could get, and if it was from Death, so be it. He would be just as grateful as if it was Ron and Hermione. Or he would try to see it like that. As he knew very well, he would miss both of them more and more as days went by, and with that, he was scared he would eventually forget them. Leave the memories of Ron and Hermione behind. Harry never wanted to forget them, they meant so much to him and he wouldn't forget him. He absolutely refuses. Harry wouldn't forget a single person, ranging from Draco Malfoy to Sirius Black, he wanted to remember all of them to the fullest he could.

He may not be able to live another day with them in full, but as soon as he gets his hands on the ring he'll talk to everyone. Maybe even the Malfoy who killed him and just ask why? The war was already lost for the Death Eaters, what was the point of having more death? Harry shouldn't have died, even if this life he would now lead would be free of other's control, he couldn't help but feel that he should still be alive in his original timeline. As Harry Potter, where he could keep his friends close and watch as everyone grew and developed into better people. Harry would maybe try to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts, where he could watch over all the future generations of children, teach and protect them. Like they should be like he should have been.

"We're almost there, Mr. Peverell, are you ready?" Dippet asked quietly over to Harry who blinked and focused over to him.

"Uh, yeah. What all do I need to do?" Harry asked, wanting to both sound realistic and out of genuine curiosity. For all, he knew there could be an extra step in this time to be sorted, like actually fighting a dragon.

"Oh! Right, when we walk in, I want you to walk straight up near the teacher's table and sit on the stool. Dumbledore will be standing right next to it with the sorting hat, so don't worry about that. I will have a small speech and introduce you, you will most likely get some looks or some people haggling as it was already leaked who the boy-who-lived name was," Dippet looked somewhat annoyed with the last line of the sentence but went on, "The full article is out tomorrow, but surely the pure-blooded children would have already gotten word from their parents. It will also be in the papers that you are here, don't be concerned as even if they know you're here, that doesn't mean they can get you."

From experience, Harry knew that was a lie. Somehow, Voldemort or some other force that wasn't supposed to get him got him. From Voldemort himself multiple times to his falsely jailed Godfather, they all got in and all managed to snag him. Yeah, he'll believe it when he sees it not happen for a year.

"I'm not too concerned over Grindelwald," Harry hummed, as the doors to the Great Hall came into sight, "I actually have a wand to defend myself with and I'm definitely not afraid to use it."

"Do whatever you need to defend yourself, just I ask of you not to kill them if you can help it," Dippet's voice was darker than usual but he went on, "I wouldn't want a death on Hogwarts property, anywhere else would be fine. Just not in front of the children especially."

"I'll make sure of that, SIr," Harry answered, he had no intent to kill in front of the younger years. Unlike Dumbledore, he would ensure an eleven-year-old didn't have to witness a murder-or commit one, "I will only do so if they would be in direct danger if I didn't."

"May it be, just be very wise with that assessment," Dippet said as they came to a stop in front of the door, where the voices spoke so loudly Harry could hear the chatter, "Don't let anyone else know I gave you permission to defend yourself to that degree, they may not take that nicely. Some people don't understand the matters of life and death, yet."

"Of course I won't, Headmaster," Harry agreed, "Not a single soul besides ourselves will know."

Dippet looked over to him with a small smile on his face, "Great, now that, this was established, it's time for you to be sorted."

Harry didn't get time to reply as Dippet pushed open the door firmly and stepped inside the Great Hall. Harry walked gracefully behind, chin raised and back straight as he tried to copy nearly every pure-blood he's ever seen in his life. Quietly hoping he didn't look like a confused waddling duck or something, he felt slightly anxious as everyone in the hall went silent as they watched him. Trying not to let himself look at the ground at the students, he kept his eyes ahead in an aloof way, still praying to whatever god that existed he was doing this right. After what seemed like hours of focused walking, Dippet swerved away and to the teacher's table. Leaving Harry to meet Dumbledore at the stool. Finishing his catwalk to the stool, he sat down still attempting to be pure-blood passing. Harry had no idea where to put his arms, so he folded his hands and set them clearly displayed them as such.

As he settled, he started to glance around the hall, everyone was staring varied from outright gawking from a gaggle of Hufflepuff's to mindful observing from Slytherin's. Harry scanned the Slytherin table, looking for the only familiar face he would find in this hall as a student, he was quick to find him. In the dead center of the table sat Riddle who was staring intently at Harry with what can only be described as a poker face. Riddle made eye contact with him, and Harry made it clear he was looking him over by flickering his eyes over him and his cronies. Harry made sure to look away dismissively, if he wasn't being watched by everyone he would be smirking, as he knew that would irk Riddle and the thought entertained him greatly.

"Hello, students and faculty of Hogwarts, you may be wondering why we are all gathered here today. With recent events, we have gained a new student. There are two names you may know him by, one of them being The-Boy-Who-Lived from the papers," Dippet paused waiting for the gasps and whispers to stop. Whispering persisted afterward for a few long moments, before everyone silenced again, "His true name is Hadrian Peverell-" More whispers, centered mostly in the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables- "and I hope you can accept him with open arms."

That was when the hat was placed on his head by Dumbledore, the hat was silent. Harry was silent. Harry could feel the hat started to cautiously prod at the mind shields before whispering to him, "Yes, yes, very impressive, lower the shields now, please."

Harry did so quickly, not showing his embarrassment other than a slight twitch of his face, the hat dove in eagerly. The hat was deathly quiet, for a good long stretch of about three minutes. With every second of the hat's silence, the hall grew more talkative with whispers.

"Oh my," The hat finally said, voice quiet and awed, "Master of Death, how staggering. I never thought in my years to be placed on such a creature's head- a very glorious head indeed. Very smart, just as cunning as you'd expect. I can't see why I placed you in Gryffindor previously, not what fits you at all. As much as I support friendships, that was ridiculous. You are a Slytherin to your very core, it certainly hurt and stunted your personal growth to be placed in such a conflicting environment to your nature."

"Can I maybe go to Ravenclaw instead?" Harry asked quickly, gaining a sharp laugh that echoed through the hall, making whispers halt.

"No, absolutely not! Do you know what you're asking of me? Unlike the apparently daft me of the future, I won't lie to justify some means to an end. Both of your friends didn't even belong in Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff. You are going to Slytherin and you can't convince me otherwise, Hadrian," The hat protested stronger, sounding annoyed at his future self, "With so much interesting information, I would like to stay for a while. It seems like people are already getting jittery, so, without further ado, SLYTHERIN!"

The hall was very quiet for a moment, enough to hear a pin drop before Dumbledore stiffly took the hat from his head and Harry stood up. Whispers broke out first before the Slytherin table finally cheered, the cheering being a loud uproar in the hall. Harry tried not to look bothered, he shouldn't have thought he'd get into Ravenclaw, maybe he should have suggested Hufflepuff instead? The walk to the Slytherin table felt more like a walk of shame, his gaze flickered around the table until he found a few empty seats right at the end of the table. Harry briskly walked past the rest of the Slytherin's and to his seat of choice, where he settled down just as briskly. With no one sitting around him, it felt like he was being stared at from all sides. Ignoring the feeling he was somewhat used to, he looked down to his empty plate and wondered when the feeling would go away.

"Tomorrow will be a regular day, please, respect your fellow students and that is all for tonight," Dippet finished his closing statement and immediately summoned food. Harry then watched dully as Dippet started to put food on his plate.

Harry really didn't feel that hungry, he just wanted to go to the dorms, cast a silencing charm on his bed, and a locking charm on his curtains and sleep. Kiwi can talk to Riddle so he needs to tell her that the other Speaker is not to be liked, annoy and irritate him as much as possible if you desire. It would be funny to watch Kiwi endlessly tell jokes and insults to Riddle and watch him get more and more irritated at a snake he couldn't touch without repercussions. Mentioning that, he needed to show that he wasn't one to get fucked with very soon. Harry didn't want his stuff messed with, or worse, Hedwig or Kiwi to get injured or killed because the Slytherin's wanted to prove a point. They touch either of them and Harry will kill them and then himself, maybe that was slightly more dramatic but he would kill them for sure.

The feeling of being watched persisted and Harry could guess exactly where it came from, after a moment he decided to stare back to show his rebellion for his cause. Harry snapped his head up and instantly met eyes with Riddle, who was indeed staring at him with his minions whispering in his ears at the same time. God dammit, Harry cursed still having his eyes locked with Riddle as the boy stood and approached him like he was stalking some defenseless medieval princess. When Riddle was in front of him, he robotically sat down on the chair directly across from him.

"Welcome to the Slytherin house, Peverell," Riddle greeted him, his voice sounding dull with the charismatic smile that he would trust was real if it wasn't for the fact he knew who this was. Very much knew who this man was, "My name is Tom Riddle, and I'm one of the Slytherin prefects, I would like to offer you a guide to the Slytherin common room when you are ready."

"Thank you for the offer, if you are so sure then may we go now?" Harry was polite but only polite. Harry smiled, but not a friendly one nor did he mask his tone with something friendly.

"Of course! Let's go," Riddle smiled wider, the widening of the smile made Harry feel uneasy but he stood up and Riddle quickly copied the action without a second of pause, "The halls of Hogwarts can be very confusing, so be sure not to lag behind. I'm afraid you would get lost."

Riddle began the walk to the double doors of the Great Hall, looking behind him in an expectant way. Harry closed the gap and started to watch at Riddle's side, refusing to follow Riddle directly and showing that he thought they were on equal standing. They were out of the Great Hall quickly, the two of them walked for a few minutes in silence, weaving through halls that eventually led to the Slytherin common room.

"If you don't mind me asking, but I am very curious," Riddle spoke up, and Harry casted a bland look over to him and jolted his head in a nod, "How did you capture Grindelwald's attention? How did you escape? Why did you come to Hogwarts?"

"I didn't capture the attention of a mad man on purpose, believe me. I was just born to a family the man was fascinated with. I didn't break myself out of Grindelwald's clutches, as the papers probably say enough to answer the question," Harry said, trying not to say too much but not too little, "As for Hogwarts, I thought it would be nice to have a place to stay. I have been on the run for a long time, a place to rest safely like this is something I can't just pass up."

"On the run?" Riddle asked, looking very interested.

"The papers didn't know?" Harry sneered, trying to sound realistic, "I've been running for a long while from Grindelwald's forces, they pounced while I was just waking up. Rather underhand, I couldn't even get to my wand."

"So, you've successfully ran from Grindelwald's forces with them actively pursuing you until one day they ambushed you before you could your wand?" Riddle quizzed, Harry wanted to groan he was going to be haggled for weeks about his backstory, wasn't he?

"Basically," Harry drawled, going on boredly, "No one can touch me if I have my wand, no has a chance."

"Oh, really?" Riddle's voice held a challenge. Bait accepted, Harry mentally cheered.

"I haven't lost a fair duel in recent times," Harry confirmed, choosing to temporarily ignore the challenge in Riddle's voice, "I would say I'm a talented dueler."

"We are going to duel in Dark Arts this week, would you like to dual me?" Riddle challenged directly, his eyes gleaming as he looked upon Harry.

"You're on," Harry drawled, trying to sound both dismissive and confident, "We'll see if you can keep up with me."

"Please," Riddle ground out sounding minorly annoyed, "I've never lost."

"So, I'll be your first?" Harry sneered with a quiet snicker, "I'll look forward to it, Riddle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're all sad because we might be kicked out , so what ' s better than writing ? B O N K K K K - Comedy
> 
> I know it's been a hot minute since we've updated, but hi! We're back, and here you all go! - Alex
> 
> Additionally, just presently to state this explicitly, we have DID so notes from different people are just us individually making our own commentary. - Kamukura


	7. Friend Gained (I guess)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night in Slytherin. Friend made!

Shut away in the hollow of his bunk, Harry currently felt a cross between peace and pure restlessness. The peaceful feeling coming from the fact Harry was back in the recesses of Hogwarts, his home. The only home he’s ever really had, the only safe haven he’s ever had in his life. Or well, the safest haven he’s ever had in his life. Harry half-heartedly wanted to leave his bed and explore the halls of Hogwarts, in an attempt to point out differences between now and the future he came from. That was contradictory to the other part of him who wanted the silent, alone, entrapment of his bed never to end. Harry had climbed into his bed long ago, he had shut the curtain and casted a locking and a silencing charm (a one-sided charm, so the Slytherins couldn’t hear him, but he could hear them). Then, after those two spells were casted, he also put on an alarm spell out of pure paranoia. If those two spells were tampered with in the slightest, the alarm spell would go off. If Harry was currently in the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw dorms, he’d very strongly state his current line of spellwork as overkill, but being in the heart of the Slytherin house sharing a dorm with Tom Fucking Riddle, he would call what he currently had as underkill. Who knew what Riddle and his “friends” were up to. Nothing good.

If his bunk, or his trunk, gets tampered with even once, he would be putting some purely offensive spells in place to ensure no one would dare try again. Harry was going all the way to protect his stuff, which will become even more imperative after he gets the Deathly Hallows, as they all are literally superweapons. The wand is unbeatable, the cloak hides you from everyone-and anything-, and the ring can summon the dead. It would be crippling if any one of these items got stolen by any of the other Slytherins-especially the ones he was sharing his room with. He didn’t want any of the mini-Death Eaters to have even one of the Deathly Hallows. Even if he could summon the Hallows back, a certain amount of damage has already been done with just the Hallows seen, even more so if used.

Huffing he rolled from back to his side and stared at the blank curtain that kept him and Riddle’s Gang separated, he could hear the voices of the Slytherin’s chattering on the other side. If he wasn’t currently in the snake pit, he’d jump into the conversation and see where it led. They were all currently talking about Quidditch, and particularly the Seeker who, in someone’s own words, “Was on his way to being shafted into oblivion, I which I will personal procreate his maximum suffering.” Sounded like a truly darling conversation, he wanted to pipe in and ask if the Seeker could still be swapped out, as Harry would still love to play Quidditch. Yeah, that’s definitely something he’ll do tomorrow, he’d going to borrow a broom and just relax. The wind against his face has been something he’s been craving for a long while but preparing for the Battle of Hogwarts and being pursued by Voldemort they're just wasn’t a time for him to relax and have fun.

That reminds him, Harry caught a glimpse of Voldemort’s diary today. That little black book was so tempting to get rid of, but if he remembered correctly it wasn’t even a Horcrux yet. That diary would become a Horcrux in June, when the serpent would reach Myrtle who was still alive right now, walking around these very halls, only she was being bullied furiously. That may be two things he could work with, befriend Myrtle and open the Chamber of Secrets himself. Maybe he should tell the basilisk to murder Dumbledore for him-nah, obviously not good enough. Harry wouldn’t say he’d want to do it himself, but the thought of watching that cursed twinkle fade from Dumbledore’s eyes made him almost giddy. Harry most likely wouldn’t act on that-but the thought did make him happy. What didn’t make him happy, was the fact Dumbledore still appeared untouchable to him. He wasn’t fully sure if Dumbledore was or wasn’t untouchable, he had no idea if his own perceptions were distorted by the future image or not, but something told him now wasn’t the best time to even try to make an attempt on his life. Harry was also very sure Dumbledore was just as twisted as the future and his death would bring good, he could feel it in his bones-but without proper justification for now, could he bring himself to kill the man? Or get someone else to do it for him? Yes, as even if Dumbledore wasn’t as bad now as he’d be in the future, the future still leered what the man would become.

Unlike Tom Riddle, he was going to make sure he wouldn't even try to give Dumbledore the slightest of chances. Harry wasn’t going to let the little hope of good in Dumbledore stop him. Dumbledore was a bad person, and he only caused harm. He would make sure Dumbledore wouldn’t hurt another person again. Hell, even Riddle was getting a second chance with him, that second chance being not being murdered right now. As Harry wasn't going to start being nice to or dare say friendly with Riddle, he's just currently at the end of his line today. Dumbledore was annoying and even unsettling at some points today, and he did throw a wrench in his good mood, but he simply didn't have enough of a fuse to deal with Riddle right now. One wrong misstep from Riddle and Harry may just decide to duel him tonight.

Mentioning the duel, he may have been a little stupid to agree to that or even talk about his dueling talent at that matter. If Harry wins, Riddle will feel threatened and probably humiliated. Riddle will most likely try to get a leg up over him somehow, and a desperate Riddle trying to exercise control never sounds like something Harry personally wants to deal with. If Harry loses, on the other hand, Riddle will think he's superior and can trample all over him. He might even try to "assert dominance" over him or something utterly ridiculous like that. Harry was never, in his life, going to become a Tom Riddle worshiper, that was the very last thing he wanted to do with his life. The idea to make his own Death Cult sounded better, where he was maybe good to people? Where he supports racial equality, of skin tone and magical species, woman rights, gay rights, and maybe a sprinkle of a no-muggle-mingle policy. Harry was going to be anti-muggle in the sense he wasn't going to support mingling among them or revealing their existence more than they have already.

Another thing Harry really was going to try to support-and maybe instate one day-is a no Magical orphans going to Muffle foster homes or orphanages. Harry himself would put himself up on the chopping block and would fund and run a Magical orphanage to house Magical orphans so they wouldn't ever end up with abusive Muggle parents. He never wanted to see a Magical child left in the Muggle world with a lack of, or an abusive, family. No one needs to go through what he did, and no one will if he can help it. Harry would ensure a policy like this to the best of his abilities, whether it be blackmail, pay-offs, theft, or imprisonment. Harry will make lives better for future generations. For his Mother and Father if they are born again, to Snape, Ron, and Hermione. Everyone will have a better world, no abused Magical children, and no orphans without a home. Ha, maybe Harry will seriously start a Death cult, if Riddle can do it with such shitty policies, so can he.

How would he do such a thing? Better than Riddle of course. Safer for the people and less corrupt. Every organization naturally grows corrupt, only given the fact Harry's literally immortal and he'll stomp out any foreseeable see of corruption he can find, he hopes he'll be more successful with others. Maybe Death can help him find traitors? That would also make things a lot better for everyone. Harry could day dream about a name sometime when there were actually members to decide, but something involving Marauder was definitely on the table. In honor of his Father and his Godfather, but maybe that was too close to his roots. Harry won't know until he has more people to decide, but it won't be something stupid like Death Eaters. That was really such a lame name, surely there could be a more creative name than that? If not, then everyone should really just go home, as that's pretty pathetic. Someone really dropped the ball with that one.

"What are you thinking about?" Kiwi piped up, breaking Harry from thought. Glancing over at her, Harry found Kiwi sprawled out on her basking spot, which seemed to be the second pillow on his bed.

"Oh, it's nothing," Harry shrugged causally, sitting up and stretching his arms up the best he could given the low roof of the bed, "Just thinking about forming a group."

"A group?" Kiwi implored, raising her head in a way that could be seen as curious, "Like what we snakes have?"

Harry blinked, "It depends, what type of groups do you have?"

"Well," Kiwi started, "Our groups are colonies, we work together, feed together, and breed together. I've lived in a few groups, and it was fantastic! We were all friend-or at least civil. I got many jokes from them, like this one, why was the rattlesnake made at the jewelry thief?" 

"I'm not sure why?" Harry smiled. 

"C'mon! Guess!" Kiwi chirped. 

"Uhh, because he wanted silverback?" Harry awkwardly guessed, humoring Kiwi with a smile.

"Close! He wanted his diamondback!" Kiwi laughed at her own joke and Harry laughed along, "Groups are basically a community of snakes that work together in peace."

"It could be viewed as that," Harry nodded, "I want to make a group to create laws to protect children, promote equality, and for human rights in general," Harry summarized.

Kiwi nodded, "Yeah, you should make a group, if it helps your fellow kinfolk, why wouldn't you?"

"I agree," Harry hummed, looking at the curtain and wanting to draw them back, "I just don't know where to start..."

"Where you think is right," Kiwi hissed in reply, "That can be wherever you see fit." 

"How do I figure out just where to start?" Harry questioned, sparing the green mamba a glance.

"Think about it," Kiwi hissed, before she peered at the curtains. A brief settling of silence followed before she spoke, "Can I go exploring?"

Harry thought for a second, "I guess, just don't be friendly with anyone else who can talk to you. Another Speaker is in the dorm, his name is Riddle and he isn't a good person. Annoy him if you want, but don't push his buttons too much. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I promise I won't get myself hurt," Kiwi bobbed her head.

"Okay, I also can't talk to you in front of them," Harry told her, she seemed confused for a moment but nodded, "Alright, you ready?"

"Yeah!" The confusion was gone in a second, replaced with excitement. Harry drew the curtains open, the movement caused eyes from all across the dorm to land on him attentively. When Kiwi slithered quickly to the edge of the bed, the eyes then landed on her.

Everyone was silent for a moment, before one of the boys who looked like a member of the black family spoke, "You have a snake Peverell?" He eyed Kiwi with unease as she lingered, with most of her body sitting on his leg, with only her head positioned upward and peering around the room curiously. 

"Yep, her name's Kiwi. I think she wants to go out and about, she won't hurt any of you without being provoked so just leave her be," Harry drawled, watching as she looked over some of the boys, a hissy laugh escaping her at the nervousness on their expressions.

"What kind of snake is she?" Riddle asked with interest, from where he was said on his bed. His legs were crossed, and on his lap sat the familiar black diary and a quill was poised in his hand. 

Harry tried not to grimace at the sight of it as he replied, "She's green mamba." 

Reaching down, he brushed his fingers down her scales and she leaned into his touch. The people watched, and at Kiwi nicely accepting physical contact, people calmed slightly.

"Where did you purchase them at? To my knowledge, a Green Mamba is highly illegal to have," Riddle drawled, not seeming to mean anything malicious by the statement as he eyed Kiwi with fascination. 

"Animal Underground," Harry responded, as Kiwi pulled away from his touch and started to lower herself quickly to the ground. Where she soon found she went too fast and gravity took control. Kiwi hit the ground with a slight thump and hissed loudly at the impact.

"Oh-Kiwi are you alright?" Harry quickly asked, being careful not to slip into a hiss as he lowered his arm down to where she only flicked her tongue at his hand and rubbed against it briefly.

"I'm okay," She hissed in reply. 

"I would expect an arboreal snake to have more grace," Riddle mused with a chuckle, the sound very odd to hear.

"I don't like him," Kiwi uncontrollably announced, her head snapping towards Riddle to glare at him, "Can we get rid of him? He really reminds me of my parents and I don't like it!"

Riddle seemingly choked on air, as he stared at the snake, looking thoroughly off guard and bewildered at the comment made, his gaze flickered between Harry and Kiwi. A clear sign of wanting to reply but being unable due to the fact he hasn't done some grand reveal telling Harry he could talk to snakes. Harry didn't care much as he boredly watched Kiwi begin a slow slither around the room, he wished he had a pencil and some parchment. Doodling sounded fun right now, he wondered if he should ask someone for a pencil and paper. I could just summon or transfigure some myself, Harry thought, but naturally felt very wary at all the ways he could make a mistake and accidentally end up with a whale or something.

"So," The Black spoke up, sounding somewhat awkward, "My name is Orion Black, how has your day been today?"

"I've had an okay day," Harry shrugged, not sure where to take the small talk further than a, "How about you?"

"Uh, yeah, I've had an okayish day too. The Seeker practically ruined practice today, and it was just practice! It should even be possible," Orion exclaimed, shaking his head in disappointment.

"That bad?" Harry questioned, shaking his head as well.

"Even worse than 'that bad', it was so bad it shouldn't be coming from the Slytherin house. Not even the Hufflepuff Seeker is that bad," Orion mourned, looking very upset.

"Can you still replace the Seeker?" Harry questioned, and at Orion's nod he went on, "I could be the Seeker if you want."

"You hear that guys? We might be saved!" Orion cheered, a bright smile on his face as he jumped to his feet. 

"Calm down," Malfoy snapped, looking at Orion with a short glare," We don't even know if he's any good, sit back down, Orion."

"He's a Peverell, of course, he'll be good," Another boy spoke up, this boy had frosty blond hair that Harry couldn't recognize the family of.

"He's probably not even be a Peverell! We literally haven't heard of a Peverell in a century or two," Malfoy huffed, his shifty silver eyes trailing over Harry, "My Father would have heard if there were members of the Peverell line alive, you know how much a crime line-theft is? You'll be in Azkaban for a long time. You're probably just another half-blood scum bandwagoning of good lineages-"

"I advise you to shut up," Harry interrupted, voice sharp and eyes narrowed crossly at Malfoy. Malfoy looked unbothered, he only leered and opened his mouth to continue his tangent, "Hey Malfoy," Harry needed to say something to shut up-he had an idea, "If you don't shut up, I will destroy your bloodline right here, right now."

"Yes! Jesus Christ," Laughed one of the others, they appeared to be another Black due to the mass of black curls that reminded him of Bellatrix, "Yeah, go get'em Peverell! Fucking chop his balls off, he doesn't need them anyway."

"Tiernan," Riddle scolded, "Don't talk so crudely."

"Bu-but Riddle! Aren't you going to tell him," Malfoy pointed over at Harry briefly, "That it isn't okay to quote in quote 'destroy my bloodline!" The Malfoy squawked, sounding much like an angry chicken.

"Abraxas do it yourself," Riddle sighed, shaking his head as he peered back down at his diary, "I shouldn't have to watch you like children."

"Peverell threatened me and my family-"

"You literally told him he couldn't be a Peverell," Tom drawled, turning a short glare up to Malfoy.

"He needs to prove he's a Peverell," Malfoy bickered defiantly, glaring over at Harry who simply stared him down.

"No I don't," Harry coldly stated, "Prove it yourself, and preferably without Daddy's help."

Malfoy spontaneously leaped to his feet, looking royally offended with a wand held in his hand, "Take that back! I don't need my father for anything!"

"So you don't use Daddy's money, just to clarify?" Sneered Harry in return, Malfoy's face continued to distort in anger and offense, and his hand shook slightly around his wand. Harry used the distraction to stealthy reach for his own wand, "I thought so, you do need your Daddy for everything, don't you? You'd be nothing without him."

"Everte Statum!" Immensely unimpressed, Harry was ready to block the spell with a simple Pretego. The Pretego itself deflected the spell, and whacked into Malfoy, sending the unexpecting rich prude flying into the wall behind his bed. No one moved or even breathed as Malfoy slid down said wall and down to the mattress of his bed where he groaned. Riddle had a darker more displeased expression on his face as he glared at the heap of Malfoy that was currently pathetically groaning while cupping the back of his head. Then, slow and quiet at first, Tiernan started to chuckle, and gradually that nickering turned into a laughing fit of peer hysteria.

"I fucking love you Peverell, marry me," Tiernan shouted between laughs as he sunk down to the floor, he held his mouth with his hands as if to muffle his own laugher as Malfoy attempted to shakily sit up. Malfoy wobbled and twitched, clearly having a very difficult time sitting upright, trying to focus his eyes on Harry, he slurred something at him he couldn't understand. Harry blinked at him.

Malfoy looked very perplexed and tried to repeat himself, after saying what he wanted over and over it finally came out right-somewhat-, "You bastard... you bastard, you gave me a concussion." 

"That sounds more like a you problem than a me problem," Harry drawled, sounding pleased and sly at the same time.

"WOO! You go Peverell! Team Peverell for life!" Shouted Tiernan, flailing his arms over his head in celebration.

"My... my father will have you get expelled!" Malfoy slurred, sounding absolutely awful as he paused as if just processing his own words. His eyes widened as if coming to a sudden realization, "Nonono, no my father, I gotta do it myself...?"

"Technically, he did nothing wrong," Orion spoke up, a sly grin sneaking across his face, "I mean, it was obviously self-defense."

"Peverell provoked him, but Abraxas also provoked Peverell," a mousy boy quietly said, looking vaguely familiar to Theodore Nott, "Malfoy was the one to cast the first offensive spell.

"Man, I wish Rosier was here to see this shit!" The shrill voice of Tiernan laughed out, and from there loud laughter bubble from him again.

"Language, Lestrange," Riddle sighed at Tiernan-who Harry now knew the last name of-as he slowly capped his bottle of ink. With much leisure, he put his ink well on his bedside table with his quill, leaving the diary sprawled out over the bed. Riddle even stopped to calmly stretch as he stood up, in what seemed to be a content fashion, he strolled over to Malfoy's bunk. The silence following him as he went.

Stopping in front of Malfoy, the heir looked up at him with a semi-terrified gleam in his eyes. Riddle tsked and lowered himself patronizingly to eye level with Malfoy, taking his wand from his pocket as he slowly positioned the wand on Malfoy's forehead. Malfoy himself seemed to be preparing for a crucio, due to how tense the boy was. Riddle didn't torture him, no, instead, he quietly uttered a healing charm. Malfoy gasped when he found his head clear again, and only a slight twitchy aftershock from the spell. Riddle drew himself away from Malfoy and turned away, he walked over to Harry who still held his wand just in case. Riddle walked placidly over to Harry and stood next to him, right next to where he sat anyway. He then spoke, "May this be a lesson to all of you, do not hector Hadrian Peverell," Riddle's voice was a deathly sort of whisper, "Malfoy, that was exceedingly stupid. Please don't do that again, you need to learn how to not snap a reaction or that will be the end of you. I would like to talk with all of you later." 

Everyone was silent, as Riddle glanced down to Harry for a single moment, they made a short bout of eye contact and something about it make Harry's breathing still. Riddle broke it within seconds and strutted back to his bed without pause. He threw himself back down onto his bed where he huffed, "Next time someone wants to start something, do the fighting in the common room, please." 

"Just tell me first! That was awesome," Lestrange woo'ed before turning his dark crazy eyes onto Harry with a wide grin, "I like you, you have my seal of approval Mate!" That was when Lestrange stumbled to the door and darted out of the room. When the door clicked shut behind him, Harry felt vaguely unsettled to get a seal of approval from Lestrange, but his train of thought was soon interrupted. That interruption being loud uncontrollable laughter and banging on a door in the hall. 

"Antonin~!" Lestrange shouted with another loud bang, "Antonin! I got something to share with you!" 

Silence was all that greeted his words.

"Oh~! Don't ignore me, you know I won't just go away," Lestrange yelled at the top of his lungs. Still silence. Lestrange then went on to shriek his next words, "Dolohov c'mon! I have to share with someone!"

"Go away you crazy bitch! I don't want to deal with you!" Shouted a voice in return. Harry's lips quirked slightly into a smile for a moment.

"I'll just wait, you know I'll sit here forever!" Lestrange laughed, and that was the last thing said before Harry vaguely heard a door click open. Then there was a silence from the hall that reminded him of the one lingering in his dorm room. 

"Well," Malfoy piped up, "I accept you're a Peverell, just..." Malfoy had the decency to hesitate, "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," Was Harry's brisk response, the room got both tense and somber as Malfoy's eyes widened slightly, "I've been an orphan for as long as I remember."

"Is that why no one has heard from your family for so long?" Malfoy quietly asked. 

"I'd think," Harry chuckled, "It's hard to talk to someone if they're dead."

"Who raised you?" Malfoy prodded further and as soon as the question was asked everyone in the room felt a physical difference in the air. You shouldn't have done that. Harry froze at the question and it was obvious, his face twitched into an expression of pure unadulterated hatred that everyone could clearly see. A fracture of a second later, the expression was gone. A distant memory.

"No one important," Harry ground out, his voice strained and very opaque, "Just some insignificant nobodies."

"Do you belong to an Orphanage?" Riddle spoke up, his tone an odd mix that Harry couldn't decipher.

"Ha!" Harry harshly laughed, shaking his head, "If only, but anything would have been better."

"It wouldn't of," Riddle refuted without a second thought, "I'm sure wherever you grew up would be considerably better."

Harry was silent, recollecting many memories of abuse flickering hazily in his mind. Starved, beat, emotionally abused to where he thought his name was freak or boy-they nearly killed him. They abused him to the point he thought he was nothing more than an animal. A worthless, fucking animal. High with hatred and everyone could tell, Harry stood to his feet and walked to the door.

"Remember to be back in two and a half hours or you'll be out past the curfew," Riddle called to him, Harry ignored him as he gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

"Wait! Don't leave me alone with these nut cases," Kiwi shrieked in a shrill hiss, speeding towards him at lightning speed. Harry forced himself not to bolt, he lowered himself down and offered an arm. Kiwi quickly zipped up his sleeve and was around his shoulders in what seemed to be an instant. Harry left the room, pushing the door shut firmly. With a quick pace of steps, he was quick to exit the dorm hallway and down into the common room. People watched him, but he ignored them vehemently. Harry walked to the wall covering the entrance to the Slytherin common room, it slid open and Harry took no time darting into the Slytherin dungeons. As much as he was familiar with most of Hogwarts, the dungeons was never a place for a Gryffindor to linger and explore, even a fake one like himself.

Harry was a ball of raw emotion as he swerved through the halls, trying to stay off the regular beaten path Slytherin's took. Harry stumbled around the halls for about twenty minutes before he found the first floor, in a haze, and around other houses, he kept his eyes on the ground and tried not to capture attention as he pattered up the steps to the second floor. His feet took him somewhere he didn't want to go, he stood out in front of the second-story girl's bathroom. The hall was barren, and the bathroom was eerily silent. Free from Moaning Myrtle's misery. Harry didn't waste time as he plunged into the bathroom, he went to the sink, he hissed, "Open."

The sink slid open soundlessly and Harry stared at the dark hole and slide-like structure beneath, "Stairs," The slide twisted and morphed into what he wanted, only with a slight echo of a sound. Stepping down the darkness by a few paces, cold air licked at his face as he said the last word, "Close." 

Harry was then lost in darkness, he couldn't see a thing and the cold tickled at his skin, he drew his wand and spoke again, "Lumos." 

A bright light shone from his wand as he started to walk down the stairs, he knew not to run down the stairs, but that didn't stop him from rushing with long strides. When he stumbled upon the dark landing his mind fell on memories of his second year at Hogwarts with Ron. Memories were barbed, stabbing at his mind, and he was half tempted to scream, shout, or break something. Instead, he looked at the corners of the landing, he found one that was free of bones and seemed dry. He walked over to that corner and sat down blankly. Harry held his legs close and hugged them tightly to his chest, he flicked his wand soundlessly and everything went dark, he rested his forehead on his knees as he closed his eyes. 

The cold and sad feeling of hopelessness and misery reminded him of the closet under the stairs, his home for the first eleven years of his life. Harry shivered and curled loser to himself, refusing to face reality at this moment, as reality seemed too big, too harsh to handle. Why would Dumbledore leave him with them? If Harry was raised anywhere else his life wouldn't be haunted with as much misery, but no, he had to be moldable. Someone to be sculpted to be perfect. The hero worship fully intact, he must see magic as a luxurious thing, not a birthright, he had to be willing to throw his life away for the greater good. Harry felt his eyes sting, in the dark void, he wondered what Hermione and Ron would really think about him. The real him, not what Dumbledore made him be, and it hurt to think that if he was placed in Slytherin originally, then they would have never looked upon him in a friendly way. At least Ron wouldn't, maybe Hermione would if Harry still saved her from the troll.

Harry felt miserable and so horribly conflicted and lonely. He felt damaged, far too damaged to be truly saved or repaired. Harry had no one to talk to like he usually did, no Hermione to spill everything to and cry it out. No Ron to cheer him up afterward. Only the cold twisted apparition that was himself, sitting in the dark shoveling up at the coldest recesses of his mind. Harry was half-tempted to call out for Death, shout out for him so he'd have someone he could trust and talk to. Have someone to vent and also talk to, only Death sure in hell wouldn't let him cry on his shoulder, and probably would ignore if he cried out. Harry was only a burden, a burden to everyone-

"You really can't be left alone for more than five minutes can you?" The voice of Death sighed, Harry heard shuffling around him and looked around. Finding nothing but the void he created by reversing the Lumos, his lips twitched and he buried his head in his knees. Death huffed loudly, making Harry flinch, with a few echoy steps that spiked Harry's paranoia, Death was sliding down the hall and settled next to Harry, who had a heat he didn't expect coming off of Death, "You were doing perfectly Harry, you did nothing wrong in that whole human social interaction thing. I understand why you fell apart at the mention of your family, and I will soothe your mind on this, yes you would have done better in an orphanage. I'll explain why as well, you know the compulsions?" Harry nodded wordlessly.

Death went on, "Having a compulsion up like that, blocking out the natural response a person should have makes it so they also can't cope in the moments after they break. Once the compulsions broke, people have to deal with everything and cope. And I understand completely, it's hard to cope in regular circumstances, but this... it is understandable you are having troubles."

"How long will it take to cope?" Harry asked, his voice sounding hoarse. 

"Oh, Harry," Death rattled sadly, "Maybe forever, there is no time you can pin to it. Just one day, you look back and realize you have. Just remember, they are only memories, they can't hurt you unless you let them deeper into your head. They will never touch you again, you're safe now." 

"What about Ron and Hermione? What about them?" Harry's voice sounded hopeless. 

"I don't think it would be healthy for you to keep fixating on them," Death bluntly stated, making Harry flinch into himself, "Ron and Hermione are vastly two different people than you'd think if I brought them back they would care for you, of course, but for how long?" 

The question hung in the air temporarily, "Until you do one non-light alining thing and they call you a fraud and a monster?"

Harry felt his eyes sting and apart of his world shattered.

"Harry listen to me, keep breathing. This isn't an attack on you, or them, not at all, but they would simply hold you back. I know it seemed harsh now, but I assure you if I did bring them back, you would be in a world of hurt later. I just don't want that for you, besides you have Hedwig and Kiwi, you aren't as alone as you feel," Death concluded gravely. 

"When can I make human friends? Or will I only have them forever?" Harry asked, and Death sighed again.

"Can't you see? You've started potential friendships tonight," Death replied, voice mellow, "You just have to let them be your friends, and remember they are not their future selves. They can change."

"But they're Slytherins," Harry mumbled, shaking his head.

"And so are you," Death flatly said, "Nothing is just black and white, you want to know what they're thinking right now? Black is worried, Lestrange just found out and his looking for you, Malfoy fears he scared you off, and Riddle is slightly concerned," Death listed off to Harry, "So you may not think so, but these people could really be real friends to you, not superficial with them groomed to be placed on that pedestal. Just think about it, what were the chances of Ron making friends with you on that train and just by chance his parents being part of Dumbledore's organization? You may have had real friendships, but at first, they were not created by you."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Harry said, grabbing his wand and using the corner to stand up, "Thank you for the talk or whatever this was." 

"I didn't mean anything malicious from what I said, just think about it. You really think Dumbledore was above manipulating everything down to your friendships?" With that final question, Harry waved his wand and firmly said the light charm. With the light of the Lumos in the room, Death was nowhere to be seen. Looking towards the entry to the real entry of the Chamber of Secrets, he shook his head. For now, he had other things to worry about, like going to bed, he felt exhausted.

Feeling both physically and emotionally drained, he tried not to think about what Death said, as it was most likely true. Death had no real reasons to lie about them, but it hurt him to even think it was true. Harry knew Dumbledore wasn't above any sort of manipulation, just he never wanted to think how that would reflect on his friendships. Walking up the stairs, he frowned as he wondered just how far Dumbledore's wires of manipulation went. Just how they, to his knowledge long too far, but there has to be more and the thought haunted him. Reaching the top, he quietly listened, he heard nothing so he whispered, "Open."

The Chamber silently opened once more, and he stepped back into the girl's bathroom. Turning around he whispered, "Close," It did as told, and Harry watched as it did so. With that, he rushed out of the bathroom and found the empty hall once more. Harry soon strolled down the hall and down the stairs to the first floor.

After about a half an hour he was back in the heart of the dungeons he knew he was close to the common room, but he couldn't quite find it. Rounding another corner, he found a hall with Lestrange at the end of it. Given that Lestrange was walking his way, he couldn't escape Lestrange's gaze even if he wanted to. 

"Peverell~!" Lestrange squealed, as he ran full speed down the hall at Harry. Lightly, Harry wondered if he should move out of the way just in case Lestrange decided not to stop. He didn't need to as Lestrange stopped about a foot or so in front of him, "I was so worried when I heard what happened! Tom can be a dick, and I'm sure your homelife was probably as worse as you say. Tommy thinks no one can have it worse than him, so he always immediately assumes they're just being dramatic. It's almost like a dick measuring contest, only with shitty homelives. Tom thinks he has the biggest dick, but I'm sure someone has a bigger dick than him. I wouldn't doubt that you would have the bigger dick, Peverell~."

Harry stared blankly not knowing how to reply, he seeming didn't need to reply as Lestrange threw his head back and laughed hysterically, his frizzy black hair floating around him like a halo. After a few seconds, he calmed down, the whole time he laughed Harry stood awkwardly not knowing exactly how to react or respond. Lestrange looked playfully over at him, a large grin across his face as he looked Harry over.

"I always thought Tom was hot, but not anymore! I got a new man!" Lestrange chirped, making Harry blush. He was being compared to Riddle with how attractive he was? He definitely wasn't as attractive as Riddle- "Or if not a man, at least another friendly friend, you do seem like the friendly type Mate. I'm sure my father you love you over, uhh, if he didn't think it was a date if you know what I mean."

"Homophobic?" Harry said questioningly.

"You know it, you're either gay or homophobic around these parts. Everyone is really, but as long as I just talk and don't start sucking dick I won't get kicked out of the family," Lestrange giggled, "If only he knew how much dick I suck on my free time!"

Oh boy, "Sucks, should he allowed to do what'cha want," Harry hummed, watching as Lestrange's mood dimmed slightly. 

"Yeah," Lestrange agreed quietly, looking at the ground in what could be shame, "I wish, the world just doesn't seem to work that way, not a lot of people are open to it. Even less are actually out as gay or bi. I bet you're as straight as a ruler and I'm scaring you off."

"Nah," Harry answered, making Lestrange look up at him in slight confusion.

"Are you gay?" Lestrange asked, seemingly starting to vibrate in excitement.

"Maybe, I might be bi," Harry shrugged, watching as Lestrange smiled broadly and make a 'squeeing' sound.

"I can be your gay best friend, my fellow half-gay! I'm overjoyed! All the other dudes are straight-or that's just what they say, Malfoy's suspicious- or just wanna have fun... oh, I bet you aren't the down to fuck type," Lestrange deflated slightly but held most of his excitement, "Still, wow, even then we will be friends! Yes, we're definitely friends. You can call me Tiernan, I know I usually move way too fast with these things so I won't be hurt if you still want me to call you Peverell."

"Alright, Tiernan," What an odd name, should sue the parents for damages, "You can call me Hadrian." 

"Hadrian, Hadrian, Hadrian~! Feels wonderful on the tongue," Tiernan smiled, "Wow, this is like the fastest friendship I've ever made successfully! This is so cool, I bet you're my only friend really. The other's only really like me because of my influence. Oops, probably shouldn't have said that aloud. I did say that aloud didn't I?"

"You did," Harry nodded.

"Welp, ahah, it's been said and I can't take it back. It's the truth anyway. I've never been the best at lying, Tom says that I should at least try but nah, I like people's faces when I tell them what I really think," Tiernan said, smiling dimming slightly, "I don't know, I probably shouldn't be talking about this in the open. Welp, friend, let's go back to the common room, you look dead on your feet."

"I need to go to bed," Harry nodded, yawning trying to keep it short and quiet.

Tiernan yawned after and then started talking again, "You wanna hold hands?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Tiernan spoke first.

"Not in a gay way, just in the friend way, I swear!" Tiernan smiled intensely and Harry didn't have the heart to say no even if he wanted to 

"You can, I just don't want the other's to know I swing that way," Harry doubted Tiernan can keep a secret, just be this conversation that was clear. He shouldn't even be friends with Lestrange! He's a Lestrange after all. The only reason he's giving him a chance is because of what Death said.

"Alright, I promise to keep that a secret," Tiernan said in the most serious tone Harry had heard from him, "I have a hard time with this stuff, but I will try. And when I try, I never fail."

Harry offered his hand and Tiernan quickly took it with a blinding grin, "You wanna go back to the common room, now?"

"Am I gay?" Tiernan asked, sounding coy.

"Yeah?" Harry replied after a second.

"Hell, yeah! My pillow awaits me!" Tiernan cheered loudly, making Harry crack a small smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boNK I ' ve worked on this for a few good hours today ! Be grateful children ! - Comedy

**Author's Note:**

> My spell check decided to die, so that's lovely. So, how do you like the reboot? I personally think this chapter is better than the original, but what do you think?


End file.
